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THE BOY WHO LOOKED AHEAD 


THE BLACK CARDINAL 

BY 

JOHN TALBOT SMITH 

12m0y cloth net $1.75 

(Postage 15 cents extra) 

A novel that is decidedly good — good in its 
absorbing interest, good as literature. The hero- 
ine is Elizabeth Patterson-Bonaparte, the Balti- 
more girl whom Prince Jerome Bonaparte married, 
a marriage the great Napoleon refused to recog- 
nize. The scenes in Baltimore, Paris, Rheims, and 
the palace of Fontainebleau scintillate with the 
Napoleonic glory. The American girl moves amid 
the great with poise and success, her snappy wit 
and American temper making friends everywhere. 

BLASE BENZIGER & CO., Inc. 

PUBLISHERS 

98-100 Park Place, New York 


THE BOY 

WHO LOOKED AHEAD 


BY 

JOHN TALBOT SMITH 
*• 


NEW YORK 

BLASE BENZIGER & CO., Inc. 

1920 



Copyright, 1920 

By Blase Benziger 8c Co., Inc. 


C3T 19 1920 


©CI.A576917 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 

I 

The Rescue .... 




PAGE 

• 7 

II 

A Fine Bargain . . . 




• 13 

III 

The Lookahead Club . 




. 20 

IV 

A Bad Temper . 




. 26 

V 

Another Deserter . 




• 33 

VI 

Persuading an Enemy . 




. 39 

VII 

An Invasion 




. 46 

VIII 

Getting Work . 




• 52 

IX 

An Adventure . 




• 57 

X 

More Trouble . 




• 63 

XI 

Eddie’s Mission 




. 69 

XII 

Taking to the Road . 




• 74 

XIII 

Earning a Living . 




• 79 

XIV 

Among Thieves . 




. 87 

XV 

The Farmer .... 




. 92 

XVI 

Other Experiences . 




. 96 

XVII 

Just in Time 




. 105 

XVIII 

Fool at the End . 




. 109 

XIX 

On the Canal . 




• 113 

XX 

Our Sins Pursue LFs 




. 122 

XXI 

Doing Penance . 




. 130 

XXII 

An Enemy .... 




. 135 

XXIII 

The Struggle Begins . 

5 

• 


• 

• 139 


6 


Contents 


CHAPTER page 

XXIV One Way to Pay Debts . . . .147 

XXV The False Foot 15 1 

XXVI Some Changes . . . . . . .15^ 

XXVII The First Trick ....... 160 

XXVIII A Constant Friend 164 

XXIX Temptation . . .169 

XXX The Exposure . . . ... . 173 

XXXI Happy Hours ....... 178 

XXXII The Last Scenes . l.. .. . . 183 


THE BOY WHO LOOKED AHEAD 


CHAPTER I 

THE RESCUE 

W AWAYANDA sat down for a breathing 
spell on a rock at the base of the cliff, the 
most exhausted brave in his tribe. The 
hunters and trappers of the wild region of the Mo- 
hawk were on his trail, close at hand. Perhaps he 
had ten minutes to rest, and ten more to climb the 
steep path up the cliff, before the enemy caught up 

with him. If he could reach the thicket above the 

Falls, there was a chance for escape; if he could not, 
then he must die by fire, as many a white man had 

died under him. That was the law, and he did not 

complain. He breathed so hard that the wild things 
in the bushes fled into secret places. After a little he 
recovered and could look about him. 

What a wild place! The banks of the river rose a 
hundred feet into the air, straight as a wall ; the river- 
bed was dry, except in the middle where a cut carried 
a narrow, deep stream; and above him were the Falls 
of the Mohawk, in winter a terrible sight, just now 
as dry as the bed of the river, except in the very center, 
where a few streams of muddy water trickled down 
into a basin. He knew that basin well ; for there his 
tribe disported in the pleasant summer days, fishing 
and swimming. Tall pines grew along the high banks, 
and deep thickets under them offered shelter to hunted 
warriors. 


7 


8 


The Boy Who Looked Ahead 


When he had got breath again, he started to climb the 
path which ran slantwise along the face of the cliff. 
To a “paleface” it looked like a desperate climb; but 
to Wawayanda it was easy, except for the way it 
used his clothes. His beautiful feather headdress, 
which he had fashioned himself in the winter, fell off 
twice, got in his eyes every minute, and almost per- 
ished; and his suit of deerskin was a sight with dirt 
when he got to the top. He was a very particular In- 
dian, and stopped to brush himself off before diving 
into the thicket. Fatal moment! The pursuing party 
was nearer than he had dreamed, and caught sight of 
him from below. He answered their wild shouts of 
triumph with the war-whoop of his tribe, fixed an ar- 
row to his bow and let fly at them as they gathered 
about the foot of the cliff. They promptly scattered, 
concealing themselves in the bushes ; but he kept them 
at bay a long time, by rolling rocks down on them 
whenever they attempted to scale the cliff. And he 
laughed heartily to see them dodge the missiles. 

It took the party of whites some time to learn that 
while Wawayanda held his position they could not cope 
with him. The only plan left was for them to divide 
into two parties, — one to ascend the Falls to the north, 
the other to climb up lower down to the south, and then 
close in on him. The moment they divided, Wawa- 
yanda gave a war-whoop of ridicule and plunged into 
the thicket. They were free to mount by the path, 
which the second division took, while the first rushed on 
to the Falls to head off the fugitive that way. But 
now Wawayanda had his second wind, and snapped 
his fingers at the pursuit. He said to himself in the 
peculiar language of the Mohawk tribe: 

“ Those yaps couldn’t catch up with a mud-turtle 1 ” 

Clearly he scorned his pursuers, and therein he blun- 
dered. He felt too sure of himself. The under- 
brush grew so densely about him that a hunted In- 


The Rescue 


9 


dian might hide forever in it. Wawayanda did not in- 
tend to hide while his wind remained. He would 
pretend to hide, and leave the pursuers to wait for him 
as long as they felt like waiting. They did not number 
more than ten stalwart hunters and trappers of the 
Mohawk country; but they had chased him so often 
and so vainly that their spirit was up this time to put 
an end to his sneering triumph forever. He knew 
that, and yet he did a foolish thing. Instead of hiding 
in the underbrush until dark, when he could have stolen 
away easily, he crawled through it to the river. 

Above the Falls, the bank sloped gently to the river- 
bed, which was just as dry here as below. About a 
quarter of a mile north, there was a bathing-pool 
known to the tribe as the Sand Bar, a pretty place shut 
in by willow bushes, with deep water and a sandy bot- 
tom. Wawayanda determined to reach this pleasant 
spot and have a comfortable swim, instead of hiding 
in the dark, damp, stifling underbrush. He moved 
swiftly and cautiously to the place, waited in the bushes 
ten minutes, looked all around for signs of his foes, 
listened with his ear to the ground. All was quiet and 
peaceful, and he laughed to himself at the thought of 
the white men watching the bushes farther down, in 
the hope of seeing him crawl out of his hiding-place. 
With great care he took off his feather headdress and 
hung it on a tree, also his deerskin suit with the fringe, 
which he placed tenderly on a bough, and slipped into 
the cool water. 

He made no sound, no splash, and kept near the 
bank, just enjoying himself. Twice he had to hug 
himself to keep from laughing out loud at the hunters 
and trappers watching for him. He could see them 
stationed at different points, and hear Red Mike, the 
leader of the band, giving instructions. After kick- 
ing around for half an hour or more, he tried float- 
ing. How pleasant to lie in the water, as if on an 


lo The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

/ 

air cushion, arms outstretched, nose and mouth just 
over the surface, feeling like a bird going to sleep! 
When tired of this, he stood up and rubbed the water 
from his eyes. Was he dreaming, or had he rubbed 
some spell into his eyes? On the bank stood eight 
solemn forms in the costumes of white men. One of 
them had just seized his clothes and headdress, and 
the eight stood like statues grinning at him, waiting 
for him to come to shore. All was not lost yet, and 
Wawayanda had sworn never to be taken alive. He 
turned about and dashed for the dry bed of the river. 
Too late I Two hunters had slipped out of their clothes 
and into the stream while he was doing the floating 
act, and were waiting for him. He was trapped! 
With a yell of defiance he shouted in the language of 
his tribe: 

“ You yaps will have to fight for it! 

They were ready for his challenge, and fell upon 
him as he made a dash for the far side of the pool. 
By just grabbing his heels and pulling him under water, 
they soon subdued him, and loud was their laughter as 
he was dragged ignominiously ashore. In their laughing 
the white men seemed to have no dignity; for they lay 
down on their backs, rolled over, beat the air with their 
hands, screamed and danced, in their joy at his cap- 
ture. It took four men to hold him. Wawayanda 
submitted to being bound to a tree with a rope, which 
first circled his waist, then gripped his arms behind 
him, travelled to his ankles and bound them, and then 
went three times around the tree. 

“ As he’s going to burn before noon,” said Red 
Mike, the leader, a coarse creature, “ he doesn’t need 
any clothes. Good clothes too. We’ll put them up at 
auction.” 

“ I must die in my clothes,” said Wawayanda with 
dignity; “ otherwise I won’t die.” 

'' Well, I suppose a chief must die in his whole out- 


The Rescue 


II 


fit, so give him his togs,” Red Mike commanded with 
much grumbling. '' But all of you fellows stand 
about, and at the first sign of an attempt to escape 
kill him.” 

When he was dressed and tied again, the band went 
in swimming to take off the dust and weariness of the 
long pursuit, and to prepare themselves for burning the 
captive later on. They treated the poor Indian with 
ridicule, dancing about the tree and poking his ribs, 
while Red Mike recounted Wawayanda’s boastings 
about never being captured, and never going to be cap- 
tured. 

What have you got to say now ? Weren’t you 
caught like.a fool-turkey at Thanksgiving?” 

“ I had to become foolish for you to catch me,” 
said the Indian. 

“ Oh, give him twenty for that ! ” the band cried in 
chorus; and they danced about the tree, slapping and 
thumping him. 

But Wawayanda neither dodged nor spoke a word. 
He stood against the tree, a hero even in his bonds. 

When the hunters and trappers had dressed again, 
they ate a comfortable lunch; and each one stepped up 
to the captive, holding a sandwich or a cake under 
his nose, saying: 

“ Wouldn’t you like to have it? ” 

When the lunch was over, the hunters and trappers 
gathered in a circle around the tree, and looked at the 
silent captive. They were a ferocious set, in their 
red shirts and trousers, their slouch hats and pistol 
belts. Red Mike looked like a pirate. A black 
whisker covered his face, and his red nose stuck out 
above it like a street lamp, so that even his men joked 
him on its color and size. He was the spokesman of 
the crowd. 

‘‘ Well, boys,” he began, ** we’ve caught this tamal 
critter at last, after he has killed and scalped the set- 


12 


The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

tiers of the Mohawk valley for many years. His doom 
is now at hand. I vote that he be stripped of his 
headdress, scalped, and then burned, right where he 
stands.” 

I don’t see why you take my headdress,” Wa- 
wayanda protested with anger. ‘‘ It is the sign of my 
tribe and the sign of my victories.” 

“ Oh, let him have the headdress ! ” said some of the 
hunters. 

“ No, sir ! ” Red Mike shouted. “ Didn’t Li Hung 
Chang lose the peacock feather when he lost his job? 
We must treat this Indian just the same as the Em- 
press of China treated Li Hung Chang. All in favor 
say * Aye.’ ” 

The entire band supported Red Mike ; and the proud 
head of the Indian drooped as the executioner snatched 
the feathered headdress from his brow and planted it 
firmly on the red locks of the leader. Red Mike 
laughed fiercely. 

“ Now get the wood and start the fire! ” he cried. 

It was a painful scene, except that the hunters and 
trappers laughed as they ran about gathering wood and 
piling it in a half circle about the doomed chief. They 
pinched him and poked him as they piled, and showed 
him how the flames would reach out for his legs first, 
and so roast him slowly. Red Mike directed the work, 
talking at the top of his voice, abusing some and prais- 
ing others; smoothing his black whiskers and fixing 
his red nose as if it threatened to come off ; and then 
laughing as if his sides would give way. And through 
all the cruel uproar Wawayanda gave no sign, ut- 
tered no protest: simply waited for the terriWe end 
with the composure of his race. 

When all was ready for the match. Red Mike sang 
out: 

‘‘ Wawayanda, have you anything to say why sen- 


A Fine Bargain 13 

tence of death by fire shall not be carried out according 
to the customs of the nation? 

The band cheered their leader, but the Indian re- 
mained silent with bowed head. 

Let her go ! '' shouted Red Mike ; and almost im- 
mediately the pile leaped into flame, hiding the form 
of the poor victim from sight. 

Red Mike looked with some anxiety at the blaze; 
but as it died down soon to a regular flame, they could 
see the Indian behind it. He had lost his attitude 
of firmness, and was gazing beyond them toward the 
woods. At the same moment a hunter yelled: 

“ Look out ! Here comes McGinnis ! ” 

There must have been some magic in the name, for 
without an instant’s delay Red Mike and the band fled 
into the thicket and disappeared. And on their heels 
came a shouting man, behind him a silent man; and 
while one followed the band into the underbrush, the 
other kicked away the Are and snatched at the rope 
which bound the captive to the tree, exclaiming wildly 
as he did so at the horror of the scene. 

But Wawayanda just pulled the rope off his form 
and threw it aside. 

“ There’s no danger. Father Flemii^,” said he. 
‘‘ I’m not really tied, and the boys were just playing 
Injun and hunters. But now it’s a real chase, I guess; 
for McGinnis knows the woods, and he’s anxious to get 
hold of Red Mike before all the others.” 

CHAPTER II 

A FINE BARGAIN 

F ather Fleming’s face seemed rather stem 
as he looked at Wawayanda, and even the 
shrewd glance of the make-believe Indian could 
not see the twinkle in his eyes. He was still a young 


14 The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

man, spare in form, sharp and forceful in features, and 
his under lip pouted as if he were going to find fault 
severely. But he had a very kindly temper, which 
blazed up suddenly and died away as suddenly; and 
all the boys of the town feared him and loved him 
together. Still they never felt quite sure of him. 

“If you will wash the war-paint off your face, I 
will know to whom I am talking,” he said sharply. 

“ Fm Eddie Travers, Father,” said the boy politely. 

“ But I can not be sure of that till I see the real 
face.” 

So Wawayanda found a piece of soap in his clothes, 
and washed the last trace of red skin and war-paint 
from a face which he turned to Father Fleming for 
inspection. It was a nice face, rather thoughtful for 
its age, with clear black eyes and a sweet mouth. 

“ I see you are Eddie Travers,” the priest said 
gravely ; “ and will you please explain all this dan- 
gerous playing? I find you on the point of being 
bpmed to death, and a crowd of boys invading the 
gardens of Mr. McGinnis. It is this kind of work 
which usually ends in jail.” 

“ We were just playing Injun,” said Eddie. “ We 
play it every other week, and each fellow in turn takes 
the part of Wawayanda. It’s the same thing as hare 
and hounds, only we put on suits like this and take 
other names. I never got caught yet. Red Mike 
wanted bad to catch me this time, because I caught him 
last time.” 

“Red Mike? Was that the fellow with the nose 
and the whiskers? ” 

“ He’s Vin Radley,” said Eddie; “ and he’s called Red 
Mike because that is the name of a bad man in a story. 
I was to blame for bringing the boys into Mr. McGin- 
nis’ garden. I didn’t want to hide in the bushes for 
hours; so I stole up here to have a swim by myself, 
never thinking that the hunters and trappers would 


A Fine Bargain 

catch on to the trick and follow me. That’s how I 
got caught.” 

** But they really would not have burned you to 
death ? ” said Father Fleming. 

‘‘Oh, no! It was all just fun. We’ve all been 
burned to death — that is, all the good runners, I mean, 
— but we’re alive yet. If Mr. McGinnis catches us to- 
day though, I guess there’ll be some kind of murder.” 

At that moment the owner of the garden came out 
of the woods, puffing and snorting with feeling and 
exhaustion. 

“ It was no use,” said he : “ they all got away, and 
the divil himself would not have the wind or the tricks 
to catch that crowd. Father Fleming, I’ve laid for 
them all summer, set traps for them, tried everything, 
and I never come any nearer than this to the villains. 
Who’s this boy? ” 

“ The one they were burning to death,” answered the 
priest. 

“ I’d have let him burn,” said Mr. McGinnis, with 
contempt. “ Since your Reverence saved him, I sup- 
pose you would object to me taking him into the bam 
and warming up his hide in imitation of a real fire? ” 

“ I shall take him away with me, Mr. McGinnis, and 
therefore I object. But, as this is the honorable presi- 
dent of the Lookahead Club, I would like to know 
what you have against him, that you suggest a severe 
and disgraceful punishment.” 

“ He can’t have anything against me,” said Eddie, 
calmly, “ except that I come here to swim on the sandy 
bar. I never touched his garden, and I wouldn’t eat 
a thing that grows in it if he gave me the whole out- 
fit.” 

“ Why wouldn’t you? ” the priest asked. 

“ Because he’s too mean with his garden truck,” 
said the boy. “ He lets tomatoes rot, and apples and 
plums and pears lie on the ground, rather than give 


i6 The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

them away. TheyVe no use to him and no use to any 
one else.’’ 

‘‘ Hoity-toity ! ” exclaimed Mr. McGinnis, getting 
red in the face. ‘‘ I don’t need to let anything lie on 
the ground a minute, for you spalpeens pick them off the 
trees and the vines before they get ripe. I’d let you 
have the windfalls, if you’d take the trouble to ask for 
them. I’d agree to give you half the stuff that grows 
on the place, if you’d wait till they ripen ; but you won’t 
wait, and you steal what’s no use to you and no use 
to any one else.” 

“ I never stole anything but a swim,” said Eddie ; 

and even that you have to steal from the owner of 
this place.” 

Mr. McGinnis burst into a fit of laughter, and 
even Father Fleming smiled. The boy did not know 
just what they laughed at, so he remained quiet. 

I think,” said the priest, that I will make an 
arrangement with you, Mr. McGinnis, to let the mem- 
bers of our club use this Sand Bar as a bathing place 
during the summer. We will hire it from you, and 
then see to it that no outsiders invade the premises. 
What do you think of that idea, Mr. President? ” 

“ It would be just fine to have our own bathing 
beach,” said Eddie, with joy. 

‘'And could you keep the other fellows out?” said 
the gardener, who saw at once his own release from 
eternal guardianship over the fruits and vegetables. 

“ I am sure we could,” said Eddie. 

“ Then here’s a bargain,” said Mr. McGinnis. “ I’ll 
let you have the Sand Bar all summer, and I’ll let your 
boys have all the windfalls and the stuff I don’t use or 
sell, if they will keep all other boys off the premises.” 

‘‘Except as their guests,” Father Fleming hinted. 

“Why, of course, except as their guests; for the 
guests will behave like themselves,” said Mr. McGin- 


A Fine Bargain 


17 

The bargain was struck on the spot; the gardener 
went back to his house ; the priest and Eddie took the 
path that led to the town. There was no sign of 
the hunters and trappers anywhere. They had lost 
no time in putting a long distance between themselves 
and Mr. McGinnis. Under Red Mike’s directions, they 
scattered through the underbrush as best they could, 
with orders to meet in Partridge’s lot by noon. They 
were all in the lot by the time the priest and Eddie set 
out for the town. 

I think we made a pretty good bargain, Eddie,” 
said Father Fleming. 

The best I ever heard of,” said Eddie, with en- 
thusiasm. ‘‘ Why, it makes our club as swell as the 
yacht club! And, besides, we get enough tomatoes 
and pears and things to feed the crowd.” 

It doesn’t look as if Mr. McGinnis was quite as 
mean as you thought, does it?” 

‘‘ I never thought he was that kind of a fellow. 
It seemed mean though, those fine apples and pears and 
plums — oh, such ripe plums. Father ! — rotting on 
the ground, and our mouths just watering for them. 
Some of the boys took them anyway, and got a bad 
pinching.” 

“ You see, it’s the way one does things that counts. 
The boys invaded his garden and made him very angry. 
He lost a lot of stuff ; but they got green fruit, rotten 
fruit, sometimes a walloping, and often jail. Now our 
bargain is fair and pleasant for both sides. You get 
a beach and plenty of fruit; he gets rid of the toughs 
and loafers, and the fights with them.” 

“ It is the thing that counts, — the way that one 
does things,” said Eddie. Now, all this trouble to- 
day would never have happened if I had just stuck 
to my old plan of hiding in the bushes along the river. 
They run back to the canal, and a hundred men might 
beat them for a month and never catch you. But I 


i8 The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

had to choose another way; I had to play another 
trick ; and so we all got into trouble.’’ 

But out of the trouble came the bargain,” said 
the priest. ‘‘ How do you make that out? ” 

‘‘ Because you were there, Father,” said Eddie 
promptly and with admiration. “We chumps could 
never think of such a plan ; and Mr. McGinnis would 
laugh at us, even if we did think of it.” 

“ In this life good will come out of evil, if we set 
ourselves to look for it. God has so arranged. So 
we must never be discouraged over our blunders or our 
troubles, but set to work to find a way out of them.” 

“ Oh, but that’s true ! ” said Eddie. “ And yet 
how long it takes to see how true it is ! ” 

He fell to thinking of this strange thing — that out 
of evil good should be able to come; and the priest 
watched him as they walked, pleased to find the lad so 
thoughtful and sensible. When they had come in 
sight of Partridge’s lot, he said : 

“ And how about the meeting to-night ? Do you 
think it will be as bright and useful as the last one? ” 
“ It ought to be,” Eddie replied. “ There will be 
two or three new candidates, and Harold Sullivan is 
ready to make his choice of a career; and then the 
visitor, who will make a speech; and the singing. I 
think it will turn out all right.” 

“ The visitor will be there,” said Father Fleming. 
“ He is very much interested in the Lookahead Club, 
and wants to see how it works. If you have your 
part of the program sure, you may count on mine. 
And where do you go now ? ” 

“ I think the band will meet in the lot,” said Ed- 
die; “and I must report with the others. After the 
chase and the burning or whatever the wind-up is, we 
meet in some place and fix up everything for the next 
time.” 

“ Good-bye, then ! ” said Father Fleming. 


A Fine Bargain 


19 


He turned off into the main road, while Eddie took 
a short cut to the meeting-place. Had he watched the 
priest for a few minutes, he would have seen a strange 
thing. Father Fleming walked on until he came to a 
little grove, into which he suddenly dodged, found a 
path that led to the river, and in a few minutes was 
standing within twenty feet of Red Mike and the 
band, with a screen of vines and bushes to keep him 
hidden. The mighty hunters and trappers had thrown 
aside their costumes, and were now everyday boys of 
Fallville. Red Mike had dropped his nose and whisk- 
ers, and was plain Vincent Radley, a tall boy with a 
large head, shock yellow hair, sharp blue eyes, a flat 
nose, and a wide mouth. He was making a speech to 
defend the capture of Wawayanda, because Eddie 
Travers would surely claim a foul, since McGinnis had 
rescued him, and had driven them away. 

In the midst of his passionate argument Eddie Trav- 
ers dashed into the circle with a ringing hurrah. 

‘‘ No foul, no foul, no foul! ’’ yelled Vincent. 

“ Fair, fair, fair I ” replied Eddie. “ Fm not go- 
ing to claim a foul, but I ought to. Listen! What 
do you think ? Guess three times what’s happened.” 

He was so excited that the band caught the excite- 
ment and began to clamor wildly for the news. It 
seemed as if it would never be told, — the bargain with 
Mr. McGinnis, through the suggestion of Father Flem- 
ing. But somehow, amid indescribable noise, it came 
out, and the band went fairly mad. The one intelli- 
gible utterance of feeling came from Eddie, who man- 
aged to roar a motion and to have it carried unani- 
mously. 

“ I move that hereafter and forever the gardener 
be known to our members as Mister McGinnis,’ and 
so called on all private as well as public occasions.” 

Father Fleming had to run deeper into the woods 
in order to laugh at his ease. 


20 


The Boy Who Looked Ahead 


CHAPTER III 

THE LOOKAHEAD CLUB 

J UST as it grew dark that evening the members 
of the Lookahead Club assembled at the door 
of the hall, waiting for the sexton to light up 
and give the signal for admission. Every member was 
present long before the appointed hour, because a very 
distinguished gentleman had been invited to address 
the meeting ; no less a personage than the Hon. James 
Sullivan, president of the Amateur Athletic Union of 
America, the greatest athletic authority in the nation. 
The boys were awed at the presence of such greatness 
in their small town, and at the power of Father Flem- 
ing which could secure it for his boys. Not far off, 
other boys lingered in the hope of an invitation to the 
meeting. 

Vincent Radley wandered by and cast a scornful look 
at the crowd, because he did not believe in the Look- 
ahead Club. The boys began to sing to him: 

Don’t you wish you could come in, — 

Don’t you wish you could come in? 

He disdained to answer ; but with half an eye you could 
see how he longed to get in, if only to feast his eyes 
upon the great man. But no stranger was admitted on 
this exceptional night. 

Eddie Travers, as president, took the chair and 
called the meeting to order. Then he appointed a com- 
mittee of three to go to Father Fleming’s house and 
act as escort to the priest and the guest. When they 
returned, all the boys stood up and stretched their necks 
to see the visitor. Oh, what a splendid man! Tall 
and broad and well shaped, dressed in a gentleman’s 


The Lookahead Club 


21 


evening costume (which was rarely seen in Fallville), 
with grayish hair, a ruddy, handsome, smiling face, 
and a dark mustache, he looked all that the boys had 
fancied him, and they greeted him with loud and long 
applause. 

“ Now, members of the Lookahead Club,’" said 
Father Fleming, “ as our honored visitor is here for the 
special purpose of seeing how this club is managed, 
and what good it intends to do in the world, every- 
thing must go on as at any other meeting and at the 
end he will tell us just what he thinks of it.” 

So Eddie Travers called the meeting to order once 
more; and it was simply fine to see how cool that boy 
was right under the eyes of the visitor. Then the roll 
was called, the regular business transacted, and the new 
members called up for initiation. They numbered 
three, and ranged themselves in front of the platform, 
studying the visitor so hard that they forgot their part 
in the form. 

Eddie Travers said: 

Is there any objection among the members to the 
admission of Brothers Cooke, Hanlon and Toolan, 
who have fulfilled the ordinary period of probation ? ” 

No objection was made, and after a pause Eddie 
asked : 

Brothers, have you made up the account of your 
debt to your parents ? ” 

“ We have,” said the three, taking each a document 
from their pockets. 

‘‘ Read, Brother Cooke,” said the president. 

“ Twelve years’ support, clothes, medicine, doctor’s 
bills and cash, amount to $550,” read Master Cooke 
from his paper. ‘‘ Then $300 more for the next three 
years before I go to work, which makes it $850. 
Father says he won’t take any interest, nor charge for 
rent and light and heat. He’ll be satisfied with a note 
for $850.” 


22 


The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

“ Read, Brother Hanlon,” said Eddie. 

Father said I could make out the same bill as 
Brother Cooke,” replied the boy; but he doesn’t think 
ril ever remember to pay it, Fm so forgetful.” 

“ The club will remind you regularly,” said Father 
Fleming. 

“ Read, Brother Toolan,” continued the president. 

Fm nearly fourteen,” said Brother Toolan, unroll- 
ing a paper filled with items ; “ and father says he 
charges me double because Fve been sickly. Four- 
teen years’ board and lodging, $450; clothes, $300; 
doctors and medicine, $200; cash $10 for picnics and 
fireworks; and interest to date, $130. He wanted to 
add the cost of collecting — about $500, — but mother 
said no. Total, $1090.” 

‘‘ Mother was right, I think,” said Father Fleming. 

And, as I am responsible for these bills, I cut the 
amount down to $800.” 

“ You will now sign these notes,” said the presi- 
dent; and the three new members signed their names 
to promissory notes, agreeing to pay to their parents 
within twenty years from date, without interest, the 
money expended on their support and education. 

These notes remain in my possession,” said Father 
Fleming to the visitor. “ Do I need to explain to you 
the reason for this ceremony? Hardly. So many 
boys forget all their fathers and mothers have done 
for them in their childhood, and never make any re- 
turn either in love or cash for that great care, that our 
club has undertaken the task of educating themselves 
and their kind to a sense of responsibility in this 
matter. Some of the boys have begun to reduce their 
indebtedness. Harry Ludlow, stand up, please, and 
tell Mr. Sullivan where you stand on your note.” 

“ I went to work last year,” said Harry proudly, 
‘‘at $5 a week. Father charged me $150 for board 


The Lookahead Club 


23 

and clothes, gave me $10 to spend, and took the other 
$100 on the debt.” 

Isn’t that a record ? ” said the priest. 

Mr. Sullivan answered in a deep voice: 

Finest thing I ever heard of ! When Harry grows 
bigger, I want him in my office, if his parents will 
let him come.” 

A hum of admiration and delight went through the 
room, and Harry Ludlow swelled with joy and pride. 

“ Every member of this club,” Father Fleming said, 

acknowledges his debt to his parents, and has signed 
a note promising to pay in time. An honest business 
man never forgets his obligations. As the chief aim of 
this society is to look ahead into the future, and to 
prepare for it, every member is urged to consider the 
trade, business, or profession which he intends or hopes 
to take up some day, and to announce his intention and 
his reasons for the same to his brothers.” 

‘‘ Brother Harold Sullivan ! ” said the president ; 
and immediately a boy stood up, his eyes on the visitor, 
and the visitor’s eyes on him. 

I am glad to meet a member of the Sullivan clan,” 
said the great man. 

“ Thank you, sir ! ” Harold replied. He was a 
bright-looking boy of fifteen, daintily dressed, with 
thin, keen features, a slight voice, dark hair and eyes. 

What life-work have you chosen. Brother? ” said 
the president. 

“ The banking business,” he answered ; and the boys 
began to whisper to him ‘‘ sand bank ” and “ mud 
bank.” But he ignored them. 

‘‘ For what reasons? ” asked the president. 

“ It’s a good business,” replied Harold. There’s 
lots of money in banks, and I heard a fellow say that 
the man who manages money, really manages every- 
thing else, if he does it right.” 


24 The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

‘'What chance have you to take it iip?’^ said the 
president. 

“ I have just got the promise of the next vacancy 
in our bank here.” 

“ Very good, Harold ! ” observed Father Fleming. 
“ And I am sure you will do honor to us in your 
career. Money is a great power, but it often destroys 
those who handle it. It is like powder and dynamite. 
You must be more careful, more watchful, more pious, 
in that business than in any other.” 

“ Thank you ! ” said Harold ; and all the boys whis- 
pered to him as he sat down perhaps one hundred 
‘ Thank yous.' 

“ Perhaps Vincent Radley, if present, would explain 
to us his reason for taking up photography,” said 
Father Fleming ; and at once a silence fell on the room. 

“ He’s given it up,” said one boy after a pause. 

“ He’s going to be whatever his mother doesn’t want 
him to be,” said another; and the president gravely 
added : 

“ I think he has left the society, and won’t belong 
to it any more.” 

“ He told me so,” many voices chimed in. 

“ He wanted me to leave with him,” said two boys 
together. 

“ He left just at the wrong time. He’d like to 
have been here to-night,” came from many voices. 

“Your compliment,” said the priest to the visitor; 
“ but you see we have a traitor and an enemy, who 
tries to break up the club. What is wrong with Vin- 
cent, boys ? ” 

“ Too fresh! Swelled head! ” were the volunteered 
explanations. 

“ Has he persuaded any members to leave? ” asked 
the priest. 

“ Not one,” the president replied. “ We stand by 
the flag.” 


The Lookahead Club 


25 


Thereupon the boys broke into applause, and Father 
Fleming rose up to make the formal speech introduc- 
ing the visitor. 

“ Yes, we stand by the flag,” said he. ‘‘ That’s our 
motto. We have a good club, which is training our 
boys to look ahead in life, and to prepare themselves 
for the work that has to be done before they return to 
God. It will take more than one faithless member to 
injure it. But our distinguished guest this evening 
will say more about the club in a minute than I could 
say in a week. Mr. Sullivan is a man of the great 
world. Thirty years ago he was just where you are 
to-day. He had to begin. He had to look ahead. 
He will tell you all about it. You can see with your 
own eyes what he is to-day. He has a high and sure 
position, which pays him well; but he has to work to 
hold it nearly as hard as he worked to get it. I intro- 
duce to you my friend, and the friend of the boys and 
girls of America, who wants them all to grow up 
healthy, strong, cheerful, laborious, and good.” 

The great man was welcomed with cheers; and he 
made a long, beautiful speech, which a stenographer 
took down, and which Father Fleming had his best elo- 
cutionist speak at the next entertainment. He was 
delighted with the club and its name and its idea. 
Every boy should look ahead in life. The greater part 
of the trouble in the world came from looking back or 
not looking at all. Most people look where they are 
going; but also most people never know where they are 
going, so that they are not looking at any place in par- 
ticular. The engineer in the locomotive of the express 
is always looking ahead. The pilot of the big steam- 
ship never takes his eyes off the path ahead. If they 
looked in the other direction, they would never get any- 
where. If they did not look at all, the train or the 
ship would go to smash. All men are marching on- 
ward every day, — the children toward youth, the 


26 The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

youths toward manhood, the grown men toward old 
age, and all toward heaven. They must look ahead, 
or stumble and perish. The sooner they begin to look 
ahead, the better for them. Oh, what a fine speech! 
And at the close he said : 

“ I want to help Father Fleming in showing the boys 
how to look ahead ; and so I will give six medals — two 
bronze, two silver, and two gold — to the best all-round 
athletes in this club next spring.” 

Then everybody cheered ; and the members fell into 
line, and were introduced to the great man by Father 
Fleming; and some had two hand-shakes with him 
before he finally went away. 


CHAPTER IV; 

A BAD TEMPER 

T he committee and the president escorted the 
great man to his carriage, for he had to re- 
turn to New York that night; and the boys 
gave him three cheers as the coach drove off, with Fa- 
ther Fleming and Eddie Travers on the inside. The 
boys were just breathless with astonishment at the 
honor conferred upon their president. Oh, what bliss 
to ride all the way to the station with the greatest man 
in the country except the President! Eddie felt as if 
he had been eating ice-cream all day, as near the brass 
band as possible. Father Fleming had just said to 
him, as he shoved him into the carriage : 

It is your duty to accompany your guest to the 
train.” 

“ I want to compliment you on your club,” said Mr. 
Sullivan. “ It is the finest idea in clubs that I have 
ever known. To teach the boys to look ahead in life, 


27 


A Bad Temper 

to make them understand their serious obligations to 
their parents, and also to get them to discharge those 
obligations, is simply fine. And, by the way, I did not 
hear, and I would like to, what trade or profession this 
young man has chosen.’’ 

Tell him, Eddie,” said the priest; and tell him 
why.” 

‘‘ I chose the grocery business,” Eddie replied; “ first 
because I like it, and then because it’s a good business. 
People will always want groceries. And it’s easy to 
start in it, because you can begin with a few things, and 
work up to the biggest and best.” 

Quite right, very shrewd, shows observation,” said 
Mr. Sullivan. ‘‘And what is your bill to your par- 
ents, if I may ask? ” 

“ I have none, because my parents died long ago,” 
answered the boy. 

“ So that leaves Eddie free from the very start,” the 
priest said. “ He was brought up with the Sisters 
from the time he was a baby, and it’s only within the 
last three years that he found a home.” 

“ That explains it,” said Mr. Sullivan. “ He was 
lucky to get in with the Sisters. Well, now, my boy ” 
(and Mr. Sullivan took Eddie’s hands and patted 
them), “as soon as you are ready for the grocery 
store, just write to me, and I’ll give you a few tips that 
will be as good as a thousand dollars to you. That is, 
if you still hold the good opinion of Father Fleming.” 

“ Thank you ! ” said Eddie, fervently. 

But on the way home in the coach, having thought 
the matter over in his own way, he asked a question of 
the priest. 

“ How can Mr. Sullivan do anything for me and 
Harry Ludlow, as he said? He must be a very busy 
man, and we live here in Fallville, and he goes round 
to lots of clubs, and promises the same thing to other 
fellows. How can he do such things? I suppose it’s 


28 The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

kindness on his part, but we mustn’t count too much 
on it.” 

And then Father Fleming laid his hand on Eddie’s 
knee and said impressively: 

“ Do you think for a moment that so great a man 
would promise what he can’t perform ? Or that he is 
a ‘ jollier,’ — one who means only half what he says? ” 

“ No, I don’t. Father. But how can he keep so 
many promises ? ” 

“ I suppose,” replied Father Fleming, sadly, ‘‘ that 
he does not need to keep one-third of them. The boys 
forget them first, or turn out nobodies, and never ask 
for his help, because they know they are not worth it. 
But you should remember, Eddie, that Mr. Sullivan 
knows hundreds of business men, and hears every day 
of many vacant places. He told me only to-night that 
he could find twenty jobs a week for the right kind of 
boys and men, but it is impossible to get the right kind. 
See Vincent Radley ! He has gone wrong, and sneers 
at his own chances. It’s the same way with many 
others. So Mr. Sullivan makes promises to encourage 
every boy, but he knows that the right sort will never 
be so numerous as to embarrass him. And what is the 
matter with Vin? ” 

Bugs,” answered Eddie, with decision. “ He’s 
full of them. He knows everything without being 
told. He thinks he’s it/' 

Well, get after him, Eddie. Don’t let him get 
away from us. He’s got fine stuff in him, but that 
conceit will kill him if it goes much further.” 

“ It’s killing Harold, too. But I guess after a little 
trouble they’ll come out all right. Of course they’ll 
get the trouble.” 

Father Fleming got out at the Rectory, and sent 
Eddie home in the coach. The boy felt like a million- 
aire as it rolled along the avenue, with its lamps gleam- 
ing, and the musical beat of the hoofs on the pavement. 


A Bad Temper 


29 


When the horses swept into simple Cataract Street, and 
up to the Radley door, people stared, the children cried 
out, “ A wedding ! ” and a crowd greeted him as he 
descended. Everybody laughed as the coach rolled 
away, and some jeered good-naturedly because it was 
only Eddie Travers. 

The old-fashioned houses on Cataract Street had 
front steps with side seats, where the simple people sat 
on pleasant evenings. The roar of the Mohawk Falls 
could be heard like the drone of an organ ; and when the 
wind blew from the east, a slight mist from the whirl- 
ing rapids below quite filled the air. 

Two women sat on the stoop as Eddie mounted it. 

Quite a gentleman we have, coming home in his 
carriage,” said one pleasantly, while the other laughed 
in a harsh way. 

“ Some day,” said Eddie gravely, I’ll drive up here 
in just such a coach. Aunt Bertha; and half of it will 
be yours.” 

“ I’m sure of it, and you won’t be a bit more wel- 
come then than you are this minute, son.” 

Are the boys around? ” 

Upstairs, scheming something important,” was the 
answer. 

As he went in, the other woman said crossly : 

You are spoiling that conceited little upstart. Aunt 
Bertha. The airs of him just weary me, as if he came 
from a palace instead of the poorhouse.” 

‘‘ You should be careful about making mean 
speeches, Helen. They are something like curses, in 
the way they come home to roost. You may have 
them some day for dessert.” 

Eddie heard but did not heed. Helen Sullivan was 
occasionally kind to him, and her brother was his chum. 
So what did her bitter speeches matter, since she was a 
young woman, very much in love with her own fine 
qualities, blood, and fortune ; or, as Eddie phrased it in 


30 The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

explaining her, “ very much stuck on herself ? He 
had no claim on her regard: he was just a poor boy 
whom Aunt Bertha had taken from the orphan asylum, 
because his mother had been her friend. She had 
given him a home, and he had paid his way in love, 
service, and cash, from the day its doors opened to him. 
He was used to bitter speeches. Made by boys, the 
offenders had to fight him ; made by a woman, the only 
defence was silence. 

He found Vincent Radley and Harold Sullivan in 
the common room used by them for study, off which 
were ranged the little bedrooms of the three boys. 
They greeted him by rising and bowing to the ground 
with their hands flat on the floor. He replied in the 
same fashion. 

'' Most worthy president of the cross-eyed club,’’ said 
Vin, “ did you see the big gun safe on the train? ” 

Why can’t you hide your jealousy for one night? ” 
replied Eddie, in his cool voice and direct way, so that 
Vincent turned furiously red. “If you want to know, 
I rode to the train with Mr. Sullivan, saw him on it, 
saw it move away, rode back with Father Fleming, told 
him about your bugs, and then rode in the coach 
straight to our door. There’s nothing cross-eyed 
about me or my club.” 

“ It’s a baby show ! ” Vin shouted. 

“ You’re not long out of it,” rejoined Harold, with 
a laugh. 

“ I got out as soon as I saw what it was. First 
money I get I’ll spend it on rattles and bottles, and pre- 
sent them to the club.” 

“ How sarcastic ! We don’t care, because you’d 
have given all the rattles and bottles you’ll ever buy 
just to shake hands with that grand man.” 

And because Eddie spoke this truth with emphasis, 
the irritation of Vincent rankled and increased the 


A Bad Temper 31 

more, even when Eddie tried a softer tone, and showed 
him what he had lost in leaving the society. 

‘‘ Father Fleming says that Mr. Sullivan will be glad 
to help every decent fellow that comes out of the 
Lookahead Club,” Eddie continued, feeling that it was 
useful to say a word in opposition to Vincent, because 
it might steady Harold’s wavering resolution. 

“We got along without any looking ahead before, 
and I guess we can do the same now,” Vincent growled. 

“ Mr. Sullivan said he never heard of a better club 
in his life, because boys need to be shown how to pre- 
pare for work, and what they owe to their parents.” 

“Of course that’s what tickles parents,” said Vin 
savagely,' — “ to be told we are in debt to them and that 
we must pay it back. It’s a wrong idea. Isn’t it the 
duty of the parents to pay for our bringing up? And 
if it’s their duty, why should we pay them for it? ” 

This argument paralyzed the others so that they 
made no answer; and, seeing his advantage, Vincent 
began to spout like a pump in a most pompous way : 

“ I don’t pay back any money to my parents ; and 
when I want advice on my future business. I’m going 
to business men. They know what’s what in Fallville 
and everywhere else.” 

“ Where do you leave Mr. Sullivan ? Isn’t he a 
business man ? ” said Harold. 

“ He is, but he just said what Father Fleming 
wanted him to say.” 

“And where do you leave Father Fleming?” said 
Eddie. “ Isn’t he a man who knows what we all need 
to start in life? ” 

“ I tell you,” repeated Vincent, “ that I’m going to 
business men when I start in business, and I’m going to 
do my own looking ahead. No more travelling with 
babies for me. No more ' guff ’ from great men. I 
had a talk with Sam Tully at the depot, and he told me 


32 


The Boy Who Looked Ahead 


that the man who stands on his own two feet and on 
his own ground is worth all the ten million men who 
don’t.” 

“ Of course he had you in his mind,” said Eddie. 

In your own mind you’re better than twenty million.” 

Whereupon Vincent made a wild attack on Eddie, 
who defended himself bravely, until Harold began to 
thump them both, when all three got so tangled up with 
one another that they came with a crash to the floor, 
kicking, struggling, and laughing. 

Mrs. Radley came out of the shadows near the door 
and stood looking at them with a reproving air. They 
got up sheepishly and remained standing. 

Even if it’s vacation,” said she, ‘‘ you must not 
turn the house into a barn. I am ashamed of you, 
Vincent, for your talk this evening. I heard every 
word of it, and I must say I never listened to anything 
more foolish. Your talk about life shows how little, 
how very little, you know about it. I didn’t know you 
had left the boys’ club. Why didn’t you tell me? 
And why did you leave ? ” 

Because I don’t like the babies in it, and because I 
don’t want any steering when I begin to work, and 
because I’m going to travel with men.” 

‘‘ But you might have told me, or asked my opinion, 
son.” 

Vincent shook his head and put on a hard look, which 
meant that his mother’s opinion did not interest him. 
She sighed and went out quietly, after ordering them 
to bed. Harold and Vincent smiled at this apparent 
surrender of the mother to the son. 

“If you were my son,” Eddie said in a whisper, 
“ you’d go to bed with a red skin and a sore one.” 

The others made faces at him, and in dumb show 
described him as a perfect lady and an old grandmother, 
and a hardshell fish commonly known as a lobster. 


Another Deserter 


33 

Then they went to their rooms in silence, $aid their 
prayers, and went to bed. 


CHAPTER V 

ANOTHER DESERTER 

E ddie TRAVERS was very much in love with 
the home which Mrs. Radley had generously 
given him, and deeply attached to Harold and 
Vincent. He had been so long without a real home — 
so long in a great building like a factory, with im- 
mense corridors and rooms, where everything was on 
a large scale, — that this two-story wooden house, with 
a front stoop and a garden at the rear, with pretty little 
rooms, neatly furnished, seemed to him like a toy; and 
he never tired of cleaning it, arranging it, weeding the 
garden, bringing wild flowers to ornament it, keeping 
the fires going, and doing all the chores. He did the 
work of the other boys as well as his own. 

‘‘Why shouldn’t he?” Miss Sullivan said. “It’s 
only paying back a little for a good deal. He’d be in 
the asylum yet only for Aunt Bertha.” 

“ I don’t like your speeches or your feeling about 
Eddie,” Aunt Bertha said in reply. “ He loves the 
house and the boys. If Vincent and Harold cared 
for their home half as much as he does, it would be 
better for them and for us.” 

“ Oh, of course, take his part ! ” Helen Sullivan said 
pettishly. “ You and Father Fleming seem daft on 
the perfections of the little upstart.” 

As a matter of fact, the young lady thought it an 
outrage for the boys to select Eddie as the president of 
the Lookahead Club while her handsome brother was 
a member. It soothed her feelings somewhat when 
Harold got his position in the bank. 


34 


The Boy Who Looked Ahead 


The boy made careful preparations for his first ap- 
pearance in the great institution, and the entire house- 
hold helped him. Eddie polished his shoes, Vincent 
arranged his tie, and his sister bought him a new pin 
for the tie and the occasion. The boys had a feeling 
of envy at bis luck, for they still had to go to school 
another year. He looked so smart, in his natty suit 
and spotless linen, that to their eyes it really seemed as 
if he were already a wealthy banker. 

Harold had no doubt of his ability to reach the presi- 
dency of the bank. 

“ Some day you’ll see me signing my name to checks 
for a million,” he said. 

‘‘ Look out it isn’t other people’s millions,” retorted 
Vincent. 

It made them all feel good to be connected with a 
bank so closely ; and every night Harold had to describe 
how bankers appeared at close view, what they said, 
where they took lunch, how money looked in piles, and 
how the great safes kept it safely from thieves. They 
felt sure that so bright a boy so well dressed and so 
polite would soon become cashier. 

Vincent grew restless, however, over his cousin’s 
glory. He was three inches taller, weighed fifteen 
pounds more, and had a brighter mind than Harold. 
It was humiliating that he should still be going to 
school, when this slight lad worked and lived like a 
man; and he confided to Eddie his intention to secure 
a good place as soon as possible, and leave school with- 
out notifying his mother. 

“ Don’t, unless you can get as good a place as Harold 
has,” said Eddie. 

“Of course not. I want a better one,” Vincent re- 
plied. 

He was not thinking of that point at all till Eddie 
brought it to his mind. He saw then that he must 
really get a better place, more profitable and honorable. 


Another Deserter 


35 


or take any amount of chaffing from his cousin. It 
would not do for the bigger man to take the smaller 
position. So that argument kept him at school, when 
an appeal to his good sense, his respect for his mother, 
or anything else, would have been useless. 

Vincent had a strong will and a foolish mind. He 
could never learn anything from the advice of his 
friends or the examples of life. He was of that unfor- 
tunate kind which has to learn everything by bitter 
experience. Even then, experience had to hit him with 
a club to make him understand. He was now bent on 
going to work, when his mother wished him to remain 
at school. She knew that opposition would not hinder 
him from doing what he had set his stubborn mind on ; 
but she accepted Eddie’s hint, and took means to pre- 
vent him from getting a better place than Harold’s. 
In vain Vincent went about the town quietly seeking a 
respectable job in a bank or lawyer’s office or large 
store. No one wanted him, because his mother quietly 
gave her reasons, and he was none the wiser. He 
succeeded in another matter, however. He coaxed 
Harold to leave the boys’ club. 

Eddie Travers fought hard against that matter. 
While the summer lasted and the members of the club 
had the use of the Sand Bar, Vin’s persuasion did not 
count. When, however, the bathing season closed and 
the garden dried up, when Harold noticed more clearly 
the difference between the elegant quarters of the bank 
and the rude rooms of the club, between the officers of 
the bank and the officers of the club, he felt how much 
beneath him was this old association. He listened to 
Vincent willingly. Mrs. Radley set her face against 
it and used many arguments. Eddie urged him to 
remain. 

Who knows when you will need our help ? ” said 
he. “ You may lose the place in the bank somehow. 
It might burn down. The thirty-second cousin of the 


36 The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

president might ask for your job. Then you would 
have the club to fall back on.^’ 

“ Don’t worry, sonny,” said Harold, who now looked 
down on a mere boy like Eddie, — “ don’t worry, sonny. 
I have a good thing, I know it, and I won’t lose it.” 

“You are so sure that I wouldn’t be surprised if you 
did lose it. It’s the very certain people that often get 
left. And, anyway, the club is a good thing to have 
at your back.” 

“ I wasn’t aware of the fact,” Harold said grandly, 
using the words which the cashier often used. “ The 
club is all very well, but I have no further use for it.” 

“La-de-dah! Mercy preserve us!” said Eddie in 
imitation. 

“ Well, the fact is I’ve outgrown the kids’ club, and 
I’m going to choose a man’s club for mine. Aunt 
Bertha and Father Fleming want me to stay, and I’m 
going to stay to please them. But the minute I get a 
decent excuse, good-bye, Willie! ” 

So Eddie saw that Vincent Radley had triumphed; 
but he kept on fighting, because Father Fleming had 
set his face against desertion, and against the influence 
of Vincent, which threatened to inflict some injury on 
the Lookaheads. It was the duty of the leader to lead. 
He must fight to the last ditch. And he did, but Helen 
Sullivan finally overthrew him. The more she studied 
her brother, the more she admired him. They were the 
last of their family. Harold was a good, lovable fel- 
low, but he had as many faults as there are pins in a 
pincushion. Helen did not spend any time removing 
them. Her chief pleasure seemed to be to add to them. 
She believed in native pride, in select company; and 
she hoped some day to live in a house four rooms 
deep, provided by her brother the banker. She did 
not like Cataract Street, even though it looked out on 
the wonderful Falls of the Mohawk, and was wet by 
the spray of the cataract. There were many vulgar 


Another Deserter 


37 


people on it, at whom she never looked, even if they 
did attend the same church. When Harold secured his 
place in the bank, she made up her mind to secure a 
different home, to cut off all connection with the past, 
and to move up to a glorious future, half of which 
would be spent in the aristocratic section of the town, 
and the other half at the seashore. She encouraged 
Harold in his defection, and he was just waiting for 
that encouragement. 

‘‘ For one thing,” she said, “ I w^ould never belong to 
a society which had a pauper as its president.” 

‘‘ It isn’t that,” Harold interposed. Eddie is a 
good fellow, and we’re all glad to have him for presi- 
dent.” 

‘‘ He’s not a pauper,” said Aunt Bertha. 

‘‘ But he was,” Helen persisted. 

It was not his fault,” observed Aunt Bertha. 
“ There is no disgrace attached to it. The boy pays 
his way; and what would we ever do without him 
here? ” 

Of course,” said Harold. Eddie’s great, does 
all the work we should be doing, runs the club to suit 
Father Fleming. I’m leaving because I must now as- 
sociate with men, not with mere boys.” 

Helen looked at him with pride, his work in the bank 
had made him so manly and stylish; but Mrs. Radley 
just laughed, half in fun, half in despair. She was on 
the losing side. Her son and her nephew were of little 
or no comfort to her; while the stranger, this orphan 
whom she had taken in, thought of her first, and de- 
ferred to her in all things. Her distress touched Har- 
old, and he delayed his desertion for a time' — until 
Helen took Eddie aside and gave him a piece of her 
very small mind, of a character which would put him 
in his proper place, as a pauper who had no right to 
interfere with the lives of loftier people, simply because 
Father Fleming had made him what he should not, the 


38 


The Boy Who Looked Ahead 


president of an insignificant society. So Harold with- 
drew decently, sending in his resignation, with thanks 
for past benefits and good wishes for its future success. 
Eddie described the affair to Father Fleming. 

His sister did it,’’ said Eddie. “ She told me a 
pauper had no business to interfere in the doings of 
respectable people, and to keep out. She is always 
throwing ‘ pauper ’ at me, and so are other people. 
Why is it. Father? ” 

‘‘ Because the mind in these people is of low quality,” 
said the priest. “ You must get used to it. It will be 
thrown at you till you die. If you get rich, the mean- 
minded will tell everywhere that you lived in an orphan 
asylum. If you remain poor, they will tell you nothing 
better is to be expected from you. But remember: the 
people who talk in that fashion are not worth noticing. 
The real people, the thoughtful and kind and sensible, 
will esteem you the more for your humble beginning.” 

Eddie had no hard feelings against Miss Sullivan. 
He simply wondered why such people were made, and 
why they should consider misfortune something to be 
scorned instead of pitied. He was more grieved at 
the loss of his two chums to the club, — a loss which 
would be followed by many defections, and do harm 
to the good work of Father Fleming. He had made up 
his mind that Vincent should bring his hostility to the 
club to an end, or stand a walloping ; but in that matter 
he had to be careful, because Father Fleming would not 
tolerate such a defence of his pet society. 


Persuading an Enemy 


39 


CHAPTER VI 

PERSUADING AN ENEMY 

E very day Eddk found some proof of Vin- 
cent’s enmity to the club which he had deserted. 
One boy after another fell away from the 
ranks ; and the defection could always be traced to the 
direct influence or the arguments or the ridicule of this 
stubborn lad. He concealed his work, however, as 
best he could, for fear of consequences, and denied any 
evil intention against the peace and health of the Look- 
aheads. Eddie tried persuasion, for they were good 
friends. 

‘‘ We have lost ten members,” he said one night, as 
they sat in the common room, after studies were over. 
“ I think we’re going to lose more, but Fm doing my 
best to stop it. Why can’t you let us alone ? ” 

This is a free country,” said Vincent. “ You are 
free to start a club, I am free to break it up. It can’t 
be much of a club if I can break it up, can it? ” 

The members can’t be much,” said Eddie, if they 
let you. But I’ve seen a baby smash things that were 
worth a good deal. A silly person with a match could 
burn down the White House. Yet the White House 
is a pretty big thing.” 

Your members aren’t much,” replied Vincent, 
since they let me smash their club. That’s right, and 
so they don’t deserve to have a club.” 

“What have we ever done to you? Weren’t you 
treated right when you were a member ? ” 

“ You had to treat me right, because I wouldn’t stand 
for anything else. But don’t charge me with breaking 
up your club, because I don’t bother my head about it 
a minute. If my criticism changes a fellow’s mind. 


40 The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

and he quits, that’s not my fault and it’s not my inten- 
tion. I’m not going around worrying babies.” 

That was all the satisfaction Eddie could get out of 
him, and Harold did not succeed any better. The evil 
work went on; and Eddie had to think very hard to 
get ahead of the schemes of the enemy, and to forestall 
him by watching the boys whom he influenced. At 
last he decided to tell Vin’s mother about it, and to see 
if she could not hinder her son from injuring the 
society. 

Mrs. Radley was not at all blind to the glaring faults 
of her only child, but she had no skill or tact in manag- 
ing him. Eddie’s story grieved her to the heart. 

“ Oh, who would believe that Vincent would stoop 
to such wickedness ? ” said she, in her astonishment. 
“ The poor priest doing his best to keep the boys to- 
gether, and my son playing the devil’s part in opposing 
him ! O Eddie ! I begin to fear that his lack of sense 
and his obstinacy will bring misfortune on him and me. 
I get more comfort out of you, the stranger, than out 
of him, my own flesh and blood. And I’m praying for 
him night and day these fifteen years.” 

Vincent knew, from her mournful expression that 
night, what was in store for him, but he was not pre- 
pared for the actual storm. She could bear with his 
faults and his delinquencies, but this interference with 
a pious work enraged her; and when she called him 
aside after tea, and stood looking at him with a terrible 
thought in her mind, she lost her self-control, seized 
him suddenly by the collar and shook him to his knees. 
Her white face and blazing eyes, the suddenness of the 
assault where he had expected nothing more than tears 
and complaints, frightened the boy. 

“ Have I brought into the world a devil? ” said she, 
shaking him. Isn’t it bad enough to be complaining 
about you so often, to get no comfort or satisfaction 
out of my own child? Must I also bear the shame of 


41 


Persuading an Enemy 

seeing you fight the priest in his good work? Must 
you be doing the devil’s work? Listen! I would 
sooner see you dead than I’d permit that disgrace.” 

Vincent broke loose and jumped to his feet, angry 
and mortified. 

“That’s Eddie Travers’ story!” he exclaimed. 
“ Just because I told a few fellows that I didn’t like the 
club, and some of them left, he’s gone about' talking 
of opposition, and making threats. I’m not opposing 
Father Fleming’s work. I don’t give a rap for the 
club. And I’m not going to be treated like a slave, 
and flung around the room on my knees, and charged 
with being the devil’s mate, and everything ! ” 

“-Do you deny it? ” said the astonished woman. 

“Of course I deny it! ” he shouted. “ I don’t deny 
having said things, just as any fellow would. But I 
deny trying to break up the club, and coaxing other 
fellows to leave it; and I’m going to see if Eddie 
Travers or any other chap can come and tell my own 
mother lies about me.” 

“ Eddie tells no lies,” said Mrs. Radley, firmly. 
“ He may be mistaken, and I hope he is. It’s a hard 
thing for a mother to say, but I’d take his word before 
yours.” 

Vincent accepted the rebuke meekly, because she had 
the evidence, and he was glad that the storm had broken 
so quickly. His conscience troubled him. It was not 
pleasant to be connected with the devil in his evil works, 
and he knew perfectly well that he deserved the charge. 
But he would not admit it to himself. Instead, he pre- 
ferred to be very angry with Eddie for “ slandering 
him,” as he complained; and he worked the harder to 
influence some boys to keep out of the club, and the 
members to leave it. 

Eddie decided, after two months of effort had 
passed, that the time had come to settle with Vincent 
for once and all, and to put an end to his bad behavior. 


42 


The Boy Who Looked Ahead 


His mother and his cousin and his friend had failed to 
soften the stubborn heart or to change the determined 
will. 

‘‘ So there’s nothing left,” said Eddie to the stalwart 
members of the Lookahead Club, “ but to tell the priest, 
or to lick him in turn every time he’s caught at his 
tricks. I’ll begin, as the president.” 

It was agreed that a formal complaint to Father 
Fleming would be too hurtful, as the matter might be- 
come public; whereas, by forcing Vincent to fight a 
member each time he was caught working against the 
club, nothing would become known, and weariness or 
fear might force him to change. This decision came 
the night Mrs. Radley.called her son to task, and Vin- 
cent was in high dudgeon when Eddie faced him in the 
common room just before bedtime. 

So, you telltale,” said he sneeringly, “ you went 
and told mother about your club, didn’t you? You 
had to bring a woman into the matter, hadn’t you? 
And I suppose the next thing will be to bring in the 
priest and the bishop and the Pope ? ” 

“ No,” said Eddie, with a grave face, we won’t 
bring in any one but the heavyweights of the club. 
We’ve tracked you far enough, and we’ve talked 
enough, and we’ve borne enough, I guess. Now it’s 
fight. The next time you are caught you must fight 
me; the second time you must fight No. 2; the third 
time you must fight No. 3.” 

“ Who are No. 2 and No. 3? ” asked Vincent. 

You will know when the time comes. Just get this 
into your head, if you can : you will fight every member 
in turn until the meanness is knocked out of you. We 
don’t stand any more. You begin with me.” 

I want to do that right away,” said Vin, fiercely. 

It’s all fixed. Don’t worry. You are to be the 


43 


Persuading an Enemy 

Wawayanda Saturday. Instead of roasting you when 
you’re caught, I’ll undertake to wallop you.” 

“ And suppose Fm not caught? ” 

‘‘You’ll be caught,” said Eddie, “and you’ll get 
everything that is coming to you. And when the ten 
best men in the club have polished you off, you’ll have 
more manners and a better spirit than you’ve shown in 
a long time.” 

Although he jeered in turn, Vincent went to bed with 
a heavy heart. He could not fight the ten best men in 
the club. It would be only an even matter with Eddie, 
who had great wind and fine pluck in a battle, to match 
his own greater reach and weight. Ten battles ! Such 
a thing had never been heard of in Fallville. To fight 
all the members of a club, because he had exercised his 
rights as an American to break up their organization ! 
Of course the^ had the same rights to break him up if 
they could, and so no fault could be found. He began 
to fear for himself; but he was no coward, and he 
would not complain ; only he was determined to find a 
way out of it. 

The boys assembled in Partridge’s lot the next Sat- 
urday, with an interest greater than usual in the pursuit 
of Wawayanda. Ten hunters and trappers only were 
permitted to follow the trail; but the others were al- 
lowed to take up a station near the place of execution, 
as silent spectators of the scene. Eddie played the part 
of Red Mike. No one felt comfortable except the 
spectators. Wawayanda stood apart in frosty silence, 
and the hunters and trappers glared at him with feel- 
ings akin to the real thing. He had turned traitor and 
injured his brothers, and he was sorry for it now, be- 
cause punishment was near and certain. He was sav- 
age with himself for being no match for Red Mike in 
running or hiding, and still less in a rough-and-tumble 
fight. 


44 Boy Who Looked Ahead 

Eddie carried behind his fierce nose and whiskers a 
very sad but also a firm heart. He was determined to 
do his duty, to pound the son of his benefactor until he 
agreed to act rightly; but it hurt him very much, and 
he would have been happy to escape it. 

No one cheered as the Indian, at the signal, trotted 
down the ravine which led to the bed of the river, and 
disappeared among the trees. He was allowed ten 
minutes’ start, and he had to travel over a particular 
territory. Vincent almost sobbed as he noted the si- 
lence of the boys on his departure. He felt like some 
mean creature, running away from all good things, sure 
to be caught after a little while, sure to be beaten and 
humiliated, and then laughed at forever after. But he 
had to accept his fate, and he kept grimly on ; wishing 
that he had acted differently, that he had not injured 
the Lookaheads, that he could find some way out of 
this long trouble, and that he could get in with the boys 
again. They hated him. 

He made his run with a faint heart, but he made it ; 
he climbed the precipice, and dodged through the 
underbrush, practising every trick known to Wawa- 
yanda; he beat his poor brains to discover a new one, 
which would confound his pursuers. But who could 
beat that terrible Eddie Travers in any one thing? 
Somehow he had better success than the last time; for 
the pursuers were longer than usual in locating his 
hiding-place. He doubled, took risks, did strange 
things, so that even Red Mike was puzzled. But he 
was finally captured, amid the cheers of the band, and 
taken to the place of execution. They went through 
the usual form, with a slight change. 

“ Wawayanda,” said Red Mike, more solemnly than 
usual, have you anything to say why sentence of 
death by fire shall not be passed upon you according 
to the customs of the nation? ” 


Persuading an Enemy 45 

I ask the favor of dying in a free fight with the 
leader of my enemies,” replied the chief. 

‘‘ Is it your pleasure that this request be granted ? ” 
said Red Mike. 

The band shouted their consent. The principals 
stripped according to rule; a ring was formed on the 
green; and the members of the party sat in absolute 
silence on the rocks above, gleeful over the real punish- 
ment about to be administered to a real enemy. Wa- 
wayanda looked around and saw only one kindly face 
among the crowd. That was the face of Red Mike, 
stripped of nose and whiskers, determined, but full of 
pity. The heart of Vincent, which at bottom was a 
kind heart, turned into water at the signs of dislike 
everywhere. The word was given, and the two fight- 
ers began to circle around each other, looking for the 
best chance to grapple, when a loud exclamation from 
all interrupted them. Everyone was looking at a cer- 
tain point beyond the circle, where amid the trees 
stood Father Fleming. He came forward. 

“ On the frontier,” he said, '' the priest has the privi- 
lege of saving a victim sentenced to the flames. I 
claim Wawayanda. I will guarantee his good behav- 
ior in the future. He is my friend. I baptized the 
poor savage. I trained him in the Faith. You must 
pardon him, and give him to me. All in favor will say 
‘ Aye.’ ” 

A ringing shout from the whole crowd greeted the 
request. 

Did Father Fleming really understand? He must 
have understood, because he said to Wawayanda in a 
low voice: 

Follow me!” 

And the two disappeared in the woods together, leav- 
ing a wondering crowd behind them. 


46 


The Boy Who Looked Ahead 


CHAPTER VII 

AN INVASION 

A S soon as the priest was out of sight and hear- 
ing, there was a grand council of the boys, and 
the main question was: Who told Father 
Fleming? Some one must have betrayed the secret of 
the fight, and probably had also told of the resolution 
to keep fighting Vincent until he ceased his hostility 
to the club. Each one looked at his neighbor suspi- 
ciously, and the innocent ones cried out gaily : 

“ Twasn’t I ! 

It was his mother,” Eddie informed the ten who 
had agreed to fight their common enemy. I tried to 
get her interested, and she gave Vin a good scare, but 
nothing happened. Then, of course, she went to Fa- 
ther Fleming. He knows a month beforehand what 
people are going to do. So we may as well give up our 
plan. He will settle with Wawayanda, and I reckon 
we’ll have no more trouble with him.” 

This surmise proved to be true. No one ever knew 
what occurred between the rescued lad and his rescuer. 
Mrs. Radley seemed more content from that time on, 
and Vincent behaved decently. He never spoke of the 
matter nor of the club; and he became more quiet in 
his manner, like one who has escaped a great danger 
and become more serious on that account. He was 
very glad to have gotten out of the trouble so well ; but, 
in his rage at getting caught so nicely by the members 
of the club, he cherished a hatred against them, espe- 
cially against Eddie Travers. He ignored them, and 
rarely spoke to Eddie except out of politeness. 

So the happy old days in the Radley house ended 
for Eddie; he sat no more with his chums in the com- 
mon room, chatting over everything. Harold jiow 


An Invasion 


47 


talked of nothing but the bank and the clerks there, and 
he spent his leisure time in their company. He always 
referred to Vincent and Eddie as “ you kids/' He 
came home late in the evening, and had hard work get- 
ting up in the morning. Eddie felt very sad over the 
break in their friendship. He went to bed early and 
got up early, and once he heard Helen Sullivan say to 
Mrs. Radley: 

“ I’m glad to see that boy has been put in his place 
at last. You were spoiling him, but the boys have 
taught him where he belongs. If you would give him 
a room in the garret now, it would be just right for a 
chore boy.” 

“ Your father was a chore boy,” Mrs. Radley said 
sweetly; and Eddie had to run into the shed to laugh 
out loud at the expression on Miss Sullivan’s pretty 
face. 

That was a slap ! ” said Eddie, who could not 
understand why the young lady had such a feeling 
against him. He was poor, not very smart, not hand- 
some, and not in any one’s way. Why should she 
dislike him? However, he thought well of the garret 
suggestion, and quietly put it in practice. It was a 
fine place, roomy and queer, full of old things which 
no one wanted. He made a study-nest for himself 
there, so as to keep out of Vincent’s way; and, without 
saying a word about the change, fitted up a cot bed. 
He kept his room downstairs just the same, and Mrs. 
Radley made up to him by her increased kindness for 
the harshness of the others. 

‘‘ You will save that poor boy yet,” she said to Eddie. 

The priest checked him and he takes it very hard ; but 
he is doing better, and you must be patient with him.” 

I don’t mind,” said Eddie ; and I’ll be patient with 
him, too; and I’ll do what I can to help him, as you 
helped me.” 

Indeed you will,” the poor mother replied, adding 


48 The Boy Who Looked 'Ahead 

to herself : Oh, if my boy were like this dear or- 
phan ! ” 

The days wore on after that in their old fashion. 
The winter came, and the spring followed ; and finally 
the warm weather and the bright sun called the boys to 
their summer pastimes. The Lookaheads had a lovely 
time cleaning up their beach and preparing it for the 
summer’s bathing. It was all their own; and when a 
float had been placed in the pool, with a springboard, 
and something like a dressing-room built on the shore, 
where clothes could be hung, and the approaches to the 
place barred in various ways by Mr. McGinnis, its 
beauty surpassed description. Trespassers were 
warned to keep off the premises ; but every boy in town 
resented the lease of the beach, and was determined to 
enjoy it. A few skirmishes proved, however, that the 
Sand Bar was at last private property, whose owners 
would not tolerate intrusion. Mr. McGinnis saw his 
garden grow to beauty without the loss of a single 
tomato ; and chuckled as he sat in peace on his veranda, 
knowing how his fight was being fought in the streets 
of the town. 

It was now early in the month of June, and the com- 
plaints of the defeated came in many forms to Vincent 
Radley, who saw nothing, but thought a great deal. 
He felt like getting even with the people whom he 
despised, but he had no desire to fight the whole club. 
To inflict some annoyance, to make Eddie Travers sit 
up and squirm a little, to break the monopoly of the 
beach for a day, to invade and cut up the garden of 
Mr. McGinnis, would have been joy to him. He began 
to plot what he called a joke on the boys, — nothing 
serious, just a joke, to show the saints of the town that 
monopoly is wrong and can always be easily broken. 
He would not for the world disturb or injure the Look- 
aheads, — oh, no! But it does people good to learn 
that they can not do as they please on this planet. 


An Invasion 


49 


Eddie had never felt sure of Vincent’s repentance, 
and had kept on his guard, and also on the watch for 
trouble. His plans defeated all the attacks of outsiders 
on the privacy of the beach and the integrity of the 
garden; and the opening skirmishes proved to the law- 
less that the Lookaheads could take care of their own. 
Eddie felt that here was a chance for Vincent to show 
his ill-will. He watched him and his chums carefully 
from the moment the swimming season began. The 
foot of the Falls was the preferable swimming place 
for the capable swimmers; but, after heavy rains up 
the State, this spot became a wild whirlpool, dangerous 
to all except the strongest. Then the boys turned to 
the Sand Bar, which became doubly pleasant because 
Mr. McGinnis objected. All were curious now to see 
how the place had been fitted up, and how the improve- 
ments added to its delights. A scheme to invade it for 
a day, to take possession and hold it in spite of the 
owners, to strip the garden quietly and listen to the 
epithets of McGinnis, proved popular, and Vincent 
planned and directed all. He was cautious and gave 
no signs. Eddie Travers looked as if nothing were 
going on; but he learned the whole plan a week before 
it was carried out, and had a long talk with Mister 
McGinnis. 

School was coming to an end, examinations were 
on, and the boys had some extra leisure time. Vin- 
cent’s plan was simple and pleasant. On a Saturday 
morning twenty-five of the stoutest boys stole along the 
river-bed above the Falls, and seized upon the beach. 
As a rule, the Lookaheads assembled about nine o’clock. 
The invaders took up a position at eight. No noise 
was made, for reasons. Mister McGinnis must not be 
disturbed. He also must be led to believe that the in- 
vaders were his own lessees. When the Lookaheads 
appeared, they were to be ducked and sent home along 
the river-bed, after a promise to keep quiet and give out 


50 The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

no information. The real trouble would come toward 
noon, after everyone knew what had happened. 

The invaders enjoyed themselves immensely, swim- 
ming, diving from the springboard, which they tried 
to break by getting on it three at a time. It was eleven 
o’clock before Vincent noticed that not a Lookahead 
had appeared in the vicinity, and examination of the 
ground showed no signs of them. Toward the garden 
and the house, all was quiet and peaceful; and an old 
gardener digging away not ten feet off showed that no 
one suspected what had happened. But the leaders 
grew uneasy. It would be just like Eddie Travers to 
invent some scheme for their overthrow and humilia- 
tion. 

There’s just one thing to do,^^ said Vincent in 
alarm. “ Dress and beat the woods all about here, or 
we’ll be caught like rats in a trap.” 

Every boy made a rush for the shore, and for the 
clothes which he had hung on the pegs of the open-air 
dressing room. The clothes to the last stitch were 
gone! No one had seen them go. The old gardener 
declared that no one had been near him. There was 
not ev^en a stray sock in the bushes. The twenty-four 
followers turned on their dismayed leader with angry 
inquiries. What were they to do? If he got up the 
scheme, why didn’t he steer it properly? Recrimina- 
tions and reproaches fell upon him like hail, but talk 
was foolish. 

“ We’re beaten bad,” said Vincent, ‘‘ and we’ll have 
to stay right here until the fellow that stole our clothes 
lets us go. If he tied us up or locked us up, we couldn’t 
be worse off. So what’s the use? Just keep quiet, 
and wait.” 

They waited till the sun began to turn toward the 
west, till their stomachs were empty, till their skins 
turned brown, till their tempers had curdled like sour 
milk, till the Sand Bar had become a place to hate. 


An Invasion 


SI 


And all the time not a soul appeared to whom they 
could appeal for help. The old gardener did not return 
after his dinner. The garden was wide open to their 
ravages ; but, alas ! a solitary policeman marched up and 
down in front of it, on the west side toward the road. 
Besides, there was nothing in it fit to eat so early in the 
season. Then the invaders began to quarrel. Some 
built a hut of branches and went to sleep in it. At 
three o’clock in the afternoon a boy came running along 
the dry river-bed from the direction of the Falls. Vin- 
cent sent out scouts to catch him at any hazard, but he 
turned out to be a messenger to them. 

‘‘ All yer clothes,” he piped breathless, are down 
at the big rock under the Falls, and you’ll have to go 
down there and get them.” 

‘‘ Maybe another trick,” said Vincent. Who told 
you ? ” 

‘‘ Eddie Travers. And, besides, I saw the clothes, — 
lots of shirts and shoes and ties and collars, — and 
lunches/' 

“ You had some of the lunches. I’ll bet! ” said Vin- 
cent. 

And the boy grinned. 

“ No : Eddie wouldn’t let any one have them. He 
said as how you fellows would eat the rocks if you 
didn’t have something when you went looking for your 
clothes.” 

The twenty-five looked at one another sheepishly. 
But, giving them no time for discussion, Vincent led 
the way toward the river-bed. They went, in single 
file, down and across to the point where the water 
tumbled over into the swimming pool. There a 
natural stairway led down the rocky barrier to 
a big rock, where twenty-five sets of clothes lay 
neatly in order. The Lookaheads had vanished. 
In fact, their cheerful shouts could be heard al- 
ready from the Sand Bar, and their laughter too. 


52 The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

What was worse, it being Saturday afternoon, half the 
lads of the town were gathered at the rock for a swim. 
Their plight was known to all, and such a roasting 
as they received, as they filed down the face of the 
cataract, and pounced upon their clothing and their 
lunches ! 

Here another laugh greeted them. The weighty 
lunch packages held nothing but sand and stones ! 

To the victors belong the spoils ! ” said Vincent, 
as the disgusted jokers now fled for home and dinner. 

It would be long before the Sand Bar would again 
suffer invasion. 


CHAPTER VIII 

GETTING WORK 

T he ridicule which Vincent suffered for a week 
or two from the other boys made him bitter 
against the Lookaheads and their cunning 
chief. He could hardly bear to look at Eddie, who had 
beaten him at every point and made him a laughing- 
stock. He would have complained to his mother and 
have the boy driven from the house, but it was against 
the law to complain ; and, moreover, his mother would 
have heard the whole story, and would have taken 
Eddie’s side. So he made his complaint to Harold, 
who undertook to rebuke Eddie in his friend’s name; 
but Eddie took the position that Vincent should make 
his own complaints. 

Let him say what he has to say before me, and I 
think I can answer him.” 

Vincent accepted the challenge. 

‘‘I can’t object to what was done,” said he; but 
I can object to the way you did it.” 

“ And I can object to what you did and the way you 
did it,” replied Eddie with indignation. ** You got out 


Getting Work 


53 


of one scrape, because we wouldn’t interfere with Fa- 
ther Fleming’s plans. You might have been decent 
enough to leave us alone, but you weren’t. You tried 
to steal our holiday, and then to destroy our spring- 
board and our float. You got off cheap.” 

I’d rather take a hasting than the laugh we got 
from the boys. You never fight fair. It’s always the 
trick, the underhand way.” 

‘‘ Well, we borrowed that from you when you were 
stealing our members,” said Eddie. And the talk 
ended with more bitterness than before. 

Harold took Vincent’s side, in spite of the facts; and 
both boys ignored Eddie more than ever. They were 
glad to see that he had taken the garret for his quarters, 
and that he could be out of their sight most of the time. 

School was coming to an end, and the great event 
was about to happen at last: Vincent was going to 
work. He talked of nothing else, and he talked every- 
where. He suggested that Harold use his great influ- 
ence at the bank to get him in there, and Harold prom- 
ised to do his best. 

But there isn’t the slightest chance,” said he; ‘‘ for 
no one is leaving, and I know two who are on the 
waiting list.” 

It’s a very particular place, besides,” his sister 
said ; “ and one has to be well qualified for such a posi- 
tion.” 

Vincent looked at her with disdain ; and he wanted 
to say something sharp, but his mother changed the 
conversation. Eddie might have snickered, only that 
he felt too deeply the slight put upon Vincent. He 
knew more about the opinions of Helen and her brother 
than they suspected, for she had warned Harold that 
he must not lift a finger to get Vincent into the bank; 
and the lad himself had no desire to share his honors 
with his cousin. He was willing to help him to get a 
place elsewhere, but he wanted no rivals in the bank. 


54 The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

Now that Vincent had to find a position, and a much 
better one than Harold’s, he became dubious and hesi- 
tating. He would not go to work until September, 
because he must have the long vacation. In looking 
around for a fine, elegant, high-salaried place, he was 
astonished to see that none surpassed the bank in the 
esteem of mankind; and in his distress at this painful 
discovery — that he would be forced to take a lower 
place than Harold’s — he ventured to consult with 
Eddie Travers, who was more than happy at that dis- 
play of confidence. 

There’s one place will be vacant before the sum- 
mer is over,” said Eddie, and it would suit you all 
right. Mr. Willard’s secretary is going West to a 
bigger job.” 

The very thing ! ” said Vincent. “ I’ll apply in 
person.” 

Don’t you do it,” Eddie advised. “ There’ll be 
twenty looking for it, and only the man who has strong 
recommendations will get it. Go to Father Fleming 
and ask him to help you.” 

“ Since I left the club,” said Vincent, I can do 
my own asking.” 

“ But you can’t do your own getting,” said Eddie, 
and you needn’t be too ' chesty ’ when you are looking 
for a job.” 

Life all at once began to look rosy to Vincent, as 
secretary to the great and wealthy Mr. Willard. Of 
course he had already secured the place in his mind, and 
saw himself riding about in the Willard coaches, giving 
orders in Willard’s name, dining at Willard’s table, and 
always dressed like a lord. He put on his finest clothes 
and went to see the great man many times, but neither 
at his home nor his office could be get beyond the butler 
or the office-boy. ‘‘ Have you an appointment? ” they 
always said. 


Getting Work 


55 


He began to think of Father Fleming, to whom 
Eddie had already spoken in his behalf ; and he remem- 
bered that in all his troubles the priest had been very 
kind and gentle, rarely reminding him of his faults of 
behavior. He also reflected that one must not be too 
stiff in asking favors, and that help is welcome no mat- 
ter whence it comes. So he went to Father Fleming 
humbly, and stated his need. 

** You should have come before/’ said the priest. 

Eddie Travers told me you were looking for a place, 
and that place in particular. But you have lost time, 
sir; and in business one must not lose time. Now 
here’s the letter of introduction to Mr. Willard. Pre- 
sent it, and let him name the date for seeing you. Be 
modest and candid with him. I think you’ll satisfy 
him.” 

Vincent was astonished to see how far that letter 
carried him — past all guards, right into the presence 
of the great man, who questioned him gently, spoke in 
praise of Father Fleming, and engaged him on the 
priest’s recommendation alone. He would receive in- 
structions from the head clerk in the office, and should 
be prepared to take up his duties about the middle of 
September. 

What good fortune! When he told it at supper, 
Helen Sullivan went speechless, Harold showed at first 
some jealousy, Eddie beamed with joy, and Mrs, Rad- 
ley became weak with astonishment. Then they all 
began to talk at once over the wonderful event, and 
Vincent grew so elated at his luck that he forgot the 
share which Eddie had in it. 

“ Well, now, with a secretary and a banker in the 
family, we ought to be happy,” said Mrs. Radley. 
“ I’m so proud that I’m afraid I’ll show it on the street. 
And what are you going to be, Eddie, to complete our 
glory?” 


56 The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

The good, kindly woman never left him out of any- 
thing. 

'' Oh, I’m not so swell as some others ! ” said Eddie. 

I’ve got a nice job in Hurley’s grocery at five dollars 
a week.” 

Quite suitable I ” said the frosty Miss Sullivan. 

“ Will Father Fleming let his club president begin as 
low down as that ? ” asked Harold. 

got the job myself,” said Eddie, ‘‘and he gave 
me a recommendation. I must begin at the foot of 
the ladder and work up, don’t you see? ” 

“ Yes, I see,” Harold replied; “ but if I were a great 
man like him, and had a chance to help the man who 
helped me, I think I’d put him higher.” 

“ You think you would! ” Eddie repeated with dis- 
dain. “ Well, why didn’t you give Vincent a lift in 
the bank? A new fellow went in there yesterday.” 

“ Well, of all the impudence! ” exclaimed Miss Sul- 
livan. 

Mrs. Radley changed the conversation again, to their 
happiness, and averted the quarrel which might have 
resulted; for Harold got red, and Vincent got pale, 
and Eddie’s eyes flashed fire at the hypocrisy of some 
people. They forgot to ridicule his grocery job, and 
also to ask further questions about, it. He went to 
work as soon as school closed. His employer was a 
kind man, — rather slow in his ways, and the store 
seemed just like him. Eddie found it the loveliest spot 
he had ever known; something like a great book, for 
everything had a history; and Mr. Hurley could talk 
like a book in telling where his goods came from, and 
how they came, and how they had changed within the 
past twenty years. It was like studying geography 
and science, with stories thrown in. 

Eddie had to wait on customers, but mostly to carry 
goods about the town. He carried a basket one hour, 
and wheeled a wagon another hour. Often the secre- 


"An Adventure 


57 

tary of Mr. Willard rolled by in the coach and just 
nodded to him; often he passed the bank, from whose 
windows Harold winked at him in good-natured con- 
tempt ; and he laughed when he remembered Miss Sulli- 
van's acid remark : “ Quite suitable ! " 

‘‘ The foot of the ladder is the same everywhere," 
said thoughtful Eddie. 


CHAPTER IX 

AN ADVENTURE 

THINK people forget very easily," Eddie said 
I one day to Father Fleming, when they were 

JL discussing the affairs of the club. 

The priest smiled; for he was always amused at 
Eddie's progress in the ways of the world. The boy 
had a habit of summing up many experiences, of which 
he rarely spoke, in sentences which might have come 
from a village sage. 

“ I never knew that until I was thirty," answered 
the priest ; but, then, of course I never had the luck 
of working in a grocery." 

Eddie gave him a sharp look; for one could never 
tell when he was joking. 

‘‘ Oh, I mean what I say ! " he went on. “ In a gro- 
cery, where you meet little people looking for little 
things, you see human nature as if among children. 
It is open and transparent. So you have learned at 
fifteen what I learned at thirty: that people easily for- 
get. In particular they forget benefits." 

" We used to have such good times in the sitting- 
room at home," said Eddie — Harold, Vincent and 
I, — after school, or at night after study. Now we 
never see one another except on the fly." 

And Vincent has forgotten that you got him his 


58 The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

place, and both have forgotten their old affection,’’ re- 
plied the priest. “ That’s the world, my boy. You 
will meet that every minute of every day; and you must 
not let it change your ways or limit your kindness. 
Vincent is happy in his fine position, and you have 
more than paid back what you owed his mother. Al- 
ways do good, whether you get thanked or not.” 

“Of course,” said Eddie. “ It isn’t that, you know. 
But one hates to see the good old times fade away.” 

Father Fleming comforted him with many words 
and fine examples. He had seen even more than Eddie 
saw of the changes in the boys. The bank position had 
lifted Harold far above old associations, and had filled 
him with a fine conceit. The office of secretary to Mr. 
Willard had actually turned Vincent’s light head. Al- 
though he had to work hard and steady, and the disci- 
pline proved rather severe, his fine dress and his fine 
associations made up to him for his hardships. He 
felt like a lord riding around in a coach ; and he looked 
down upon his old companions, wondering how he ever 
could have found them agreeable. When he saw 
Eddie trudging about the town in seedy clothes, with 
a basket of goods on his arm, or shoving the wagon 
ahead of him, he wondered if he could ever stoop to 
that. Eddie watched him with delight ; for in his fine 
clothes, with his height, his fair skin, blue eyes and 
yellow hair, Vincent looked as distinguished as a prince, 
and acted like one, in his cold, grand way, with the old 
boys. He never could see them on state occasions. 
But he made up for this reserve on holidays, when he 
condescended to join them on excursions to the woods, 
or to the bathing place at the foot of the Falls. 

Eddie invited both Harold and Vincent to the Sand 
Bar on July Fourth as guests of the Lookahead Club, 
and both declined politely. They answered: 

“ The Falls is good enough for us.” 

“ A bad place to-day,” observed Eddie. “ Rain up 


An Adventure 


59 


State, and the stopping of the mills has flooded the 
river, and you’ll have to do some wild swimming to 
keep afloat.” 

That’s what we want,” said Vincent. 

“ The Sand Bar is a dream,” Eddie continued ; for 
he wanted their companionship, and he also feared for 
them, as they were not good swimmers. 

Run along, Eddie Lookahead, — run along, little 
boy! We associate only with men nowadays,” they 
said jeeringly. 

Eddie felt so anxious about them that in the after- 
noon he followed them to the foot of the Falls. The 
rocky bed above the Falls was now one mass of rushing 
water, frothing, roaring, until with a deep, booming 
sound it fell into the basin at the foot of the Falls. 
To get to the big rock near the center of the river 
the boys had to walk along the bank, and pick a 
path through the shallows, by jumping from stone to 
stone, until they arrived opposite the pool. At this 
point the water tumbled in immense volume over the 
precipice, was broken by the rocks into many foaming 
torrents, and was swept away into the narrow channel 
which its own force had cut through the bed of the 
river. The feat which every dashing swimmer had to 
perform on days like this was to get under the Falls 
by making a circuit, sport behind the curtain of water 
for a while, then make a rush into the wild current out- 
side, and at full speed dash up to the landing-place. It 
was not difflcult, but it required nerve. Eddie had 
done it many times, and thought nothing of it. Harold 
had done it a few times, but was not in love with it. 
Vincent had a habit of losing his nerve at the wrong 
moment; although he, too, had done the deed many 
times. 

Eddie watched them from the high bank, himself 
unseen. When they had begun the circuit of the 
basin, he slipped down the steep path and made his 


6q The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

way to the big rock. There were twenty swimmers 
disporting in the wild water, but most of them pre- 
ferred to keep away from the foot of the Falls that 
afternoon. Harold and Vincent made the circuit 
easily, dived under the falling water, and were not 
seen for some time. No one paid any attention to their 
absence, except for an occasional glance at the spot 
where their heads would appear in the wild current 
surging from the place where the falling waters struck 
the basin. All the ordinary footholds had been sub- 
merged ; and once a swimmer got under the Falls, there 
was nothing to do but come down with the wild cur- 
rent, and take the chance of making the shore some- 
where. 

All at once a curious sight was seen. Vincent and 
Harold made their appearance by the very way in which 
they went in, and tried to get back by the easy way, 
instead of diving boldly into the main stream. Harold 
waved his hands at the crowd to signify they needed 
help ; and he seemed to be encouraging Vincent, whose 
face showed very pale in the rough water. They got 
on the ledge of the Falls, where they could stand in 
water to their chin, but could with great difficulty 
keep their footing in the boiling flood. Harold had 
secured a hold with his right hand on a ledge, and was 
sustaining Vincent with the other. He was calling 
for help, but the roar of the water drowned his voice. 

The boys on the rock knew at the first glance what 
had happened: Vincent had lost his nerve and be- 
come exhausted between fright and struggle. Eddie 
was out of his clothes in half a minute. He took a 
survey of the crowd. The best swimmers were ab- 
sent, for the holiday had taken them out of town. He 
picked out two and ordered them to follow him. The 
rest were to be ready to pull the exhausted boy from 
the water. The three plunged in and made the long 
circuit of the basin, which required some eflfort in 


An Adventure 


6i 


the surging water. In a few minutes they were stand- 
ing on the ledge about Vincent. 

'‘What’s the matter?” Eddie shouted. “Is he 
hurt ? ” 

“ No, only played out,” Harold yelled back. “ He 
thinks he can’t swim from here to the rock, and 
he’s getting worse every minute.” 

“Now you fellows save yourselves, — I’m gone!” 
Vincent managed to say. 

A wan smile showed on his terribly pale, fright- 
ened face. His eyes seemed sunk in his head, and were 
fixed and staring. Harold was not much better off, 
and their fear communicated itself to the two com- 
panions of Eddie, who began to pale and shiver. The 
five boys were standing on tiptoe on the rock bottom ; 
but the whirling water kept pushing them off, and they 
had to swim and labor for a foothold. It was a ter- 
rible scene, — the foaming waters tumbling overhead, 
the wild current sweeping downward into the channel, 
and the roar of the waters drowning everything. 

Eddie’s stout heart did not quail; for he knew just 
what to do and how to do it. All the boys in the water 
could take care of themselves, but they would be of 
little use in helping Vincent, who had begun to collapse 
even then. Eddie struck him in the face with his open 
hand, and the shock roused him. 

“You’ve got to swim across the basin, Vin!” he 
screamed. “ Two will go ahead, and Harold and I will 
hold you up on each side. All together now, rush 
it!” 

Very willingly the leaders dashed into the basin; 
and, without giving Vincent time to think, Harold and 
Eddie seized his arms and dragged him along with 
them. In a sleepy way, the drowning boy struck 
out; but his strokes had no force and no direction in 
them. They helped to keep him afloat, and Eddie 
dragged him along through the boiling water quite 


62 The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

easily. He gave him a punch now and then to rouse 
him, and slapped his back another time. Harold’s 
strength and nerve gave out when they were half across, 
and Eddie had to “ jolly ” him a little to keep him to 
his work. 

“ One more pull, — all together ! ” Eddie sang out ; 
and, with cheers from the boys on shore, Vincent was 
lifted out of the river and laid on the safe and solid 
rock. Then a voice of alarm rang out: 

‘‘Where’s Harold?” 

In the joy of getting Vincent safely landed, no 
one noticed Harold’s feeble efforts to climb out of 
the water. His senses left him as he was gripping 
the rock, and he slipped back into the stream. He 
came up once, a few feet away, just as Eddie heard 
the loud cry of alarm; then sank again. But Eddie 
had him by the hair while one could count three, 
and was leading him up on the rock in half a minute. 
In his joy at saving them, and his irritation against 
them, he said rather sharply : 

“ The next time you get an invitation to the Sand 
Bar you’ll take it. I’ll see that you take it, I guess.” 

But the rescued boys heard nothing and cared noth- 
ing. Spirit and body alike were exhausted by fright 
and struggle, and they just lay there helpless, min- 
istered to kindly by their comrades for an hour. To- 
ward evening they were restored enough to get home 
without attracting notice. Eddie warned them not to 
mention the peril of the day to mother and sister, 
because the fright would bring on, at home, an at- 
tack of emotion to which there would be no end. 
And all agreed to keep silent. It was like old times 
to Eddie when they walked home together, and the 
two boys pressed his hands affectionately, looked at 
him with kind, fervent eyes, and said : 

“Eddie Lookahead, you’re a brick!” 


More Trouble 


63 


CHAPTER X 

MORE TROUBLE 

F ather Fleming kept a dose but easy watch 
on all his boys, and informed himself regularly 
how they were getting on. Some had to be 
helped every week, or admonished, or made to do 
penance. He had a different way with each, accord- 
ing to his nature. He never gave advice to Vincent, 
because that young man felt resentful to advisers. As 
his comrades said of him, he thought he knew it 
all.” So when Father Fleming met him he would 
say: 

“ Well, how are things going, Vincent? ” 

“ Fine, and I think I’ll get a raise in salary soon, 
Father.” 

“You look as if you deserved it, my boy. But just 
a whisper in your ear. Old Mr. Chester has asked for 
your place, or the next to it, for his son. Keep 
your eyes open, and do your best this month.” 

Vincent never knew how much he loved his place, 
how badly he would feel to lose it, until he saw the 
Chesters visiting Mr. Willard frequently. That sight 
did him more good than advice for a time. On the 
other hand, Harold took advice as if it were a dinner, 
discussed it all, and seemed to be deeply interested 
and impressed. But he never followed it, because 
he forgot it the next minute. 

So Father Fleming gave no advice to Harold, only 
little remarks like this : 

“ You won’t get your advance in salary this quar- 
ter, my boy, because your ‘ boss,’ as you call him, 
is tired of late arrivals in the morning, and little tricks 
to escape the consequences. You watch the clock too 
closely at the wrong time.” 


64 The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

And Harold would blush, denounce himself fiercely, 
and promise to reform. But he forgot reform also. 

Now, with Eddie Travers Father Fleming acted dif- 
ferently. The boy seemed to be born prudent. He 
had a serious mind and an observing disposition. He 
reflected a long time on what he saw in life and in 
himself, and he saw so much that he worried over 
many things. He could take all the advice Father 
Fleming had in stock, and use it, too; and they often 
sat together, debating the next move in the direction 
of the Lookaheads, or in the management of Vincent 
and Harold. Matters at home had become pleasant 
again. Eddie stuck to his garret, but the three boys 
met oftener in the common room, and the two had 
changed their attitude toward Eddie. They looked up 
to him now, instead of looking down on him. But 
there were clouds in the sky, and Eddie saw them 
gathering all summer about the heads of his two 
friends. He warned and advised them. 

“ These banks,’’ he said to Harold, are very par- 
ticular about their clerks and about their rules and 
regulations. You can’t expect that they will let you 
keep on coming five minutes late to-day and ten min- 
utes late tomorrow. Why, in the grocery I have to be 
ahead of time. Hurley wouldn’t stand being late 
twice.” 

‘‘Worrying again!” Harold said lightly. “Well, 
as some one must worry, I’m willing that you shall 
do it.” 

“If you lose the bank job, you’ll do enough worry- 
ing for ten,” said Eddie. 

And Harold knew that he was right. His place 
there was the breath of his body; to lose it would 
be something like drowning; yet, in spite of the facts, 
he could not bring himself to be punctual, to do the 
right thing always. He had a feeling that he could 
never lose the position until he left it of his own 


More Trouble 


65 

accord for something better. Vincent was even worse. 
His self-confidence had no limit. Some one had told 
him that a notable citizen of the town had said one 
day: 

‘‘ Mr. Willard, you have a fine-looking young sec- 
retary.’’ 

“ Just as fine as he looks,” the great man replied. 

From that moment Vincent paid great attention 
to his personal beauty, his dress, and his manners; 
and, by long study of himself, and comparison with 
other fellows, he discovered his own superiority to 
the rest of Fallville. He patted Eddie on the back 
when the boy warned him of coming danger to his 
prospects. 

Now, Eddie,” said he loftily, “ you mustn’t imitate 
Father Fleming too closely. He warned me, too. He 
warned Harold. But we aren’t likely to lose these 
jobs any more than you can lose the grocery.” 

If Mr. Willard sees you coming out of Howell’s 
poolroom just once, you won’t stay another day in his 
office.” 

Why, that was only an accidental visit,” said Vin- 
cent, blushing. “ It’s a respectable place, too.” 

"‘If he sees you walking around with Bill Somers 
twice, you’ll be " fired ’ on the spot. I can’t see what 
you and Harold are thinking of. You’re making too 
free with your luck, and it will leave you.” 

“ And you’re making too free with our affairs,” re- 
plied Vincent, harshly. But the next minute he added : 
“ Forget that, Eddie. I didn’t mean it. I’d have 
no affairs except a grave just now, if you hadn’t in- 
terfered. But don’t worry. I’ll keep out of trouble, 
and I’ll also keep my job.” 

So Eddie and Father Fleming had to be content, 
and to watch the coming disaster with sad hearts. 

“These things have to be,” said the priest, “just 
because men will learn in no other way. The school 


66 The Boy Who Looked 'Ahead 

of experience is very bitter and expensive, but it is 
necessary to many, and its teachings are usually 
heeded.’' 

Vincent Radley could hardly appreciate the power 
of that remark the day he read the polite letter which 
dispensed with his services in Mr. Willard’s office and 
household. He was amazed and horrified. What 
Father Fleming had hinted at, what Eddie had fore- 
told, had come to pass. His nerve failed him : he sat 
down and wept. In an hour he looked like a sick 
young man, as pale and sunken as Eddie had seen him 
at the foot of the Falls. Everyone would know it; 
he would have to walk the streets looking for any 
sort of a job, or return to school again, as his mother 
wished. He set his teeth. He would not walk the 
streets to be laughed at ; he would not return to school. 
He would go away to another town, and hide his 
shame and mortification there. He had to act 
quickly; so he announced a week’s vacation to his 
mother, and rushed away to some relatives in the coun- 
try, where he would have the time to think over plans 
for the future. But he had no head for plans; and 
he wrote to Harold, telling him the sad news, and 
asking for that advice which he always rejected. 

His sorrowful letter found Harold in the same 
trouble. The head of the bank had just informed him 
that his services would be no longer required, because 
he had failed to give satisfaction; and he wished him 
every success in his future career. Harold laughed 
in the bitterness of his heart at that phrase. His 
‘‘ future career ” ! He had destroyed it. However, 
he could do what Vincent had done — take a vacation 
and think the matter over. Oh, how the fellows would 
laugh when the news of their fall went round, and 
other young fellows sat in their places in the bank 
and the office! Harold packed his satchel, and joined 
his companion in misfortune in the country. The news; 


More Trouble 


67 

was all over town in an hour. The envious laughed 
at Mrs. Radley and Miss Sullivan, because their pride 
would now suffer a terrible fall; but the women did 
not know of it until Father Fleming brought them the 
word. 

‘‘ Well, Vincent can go to school again,’’ Mrs. Rad- 
ley said cheerfully. “ He’s too proud to work at 
anything lower, and so he must go to school.” 

‘‘ Both out of their positions ! ” Helen Sullivan al- 
most screamed at the priest. “ Impossible ! It must 
have been a conspiracy.” 

“ It was, on their part,” said Father Fleming. 
“ They conspired to break all the rules of their offices. 
I warned them a few times, Eddie warned them often; 
but they felt quite sure of themselves.” 

** Eddie warned them ! ” exclaimed Miss Sullivan, 
bitterly. “ It’s a wonder he didn’t get their places. I 
wouldn’t be a bit surprised if he’s at the bottom of 
it all.” 

‘‘ No : they have only themselves to blame,” said 
the priest. ‘‘ And you. Miss Sullivan, have no right 
to speak of Eddie Travers in that way, after the very 
great service he rendered you and your brother last 
summer.” 

‘‘ I am not aware of any service,” she said stiffly. 

‘‘ You ought to be; and perhaps, if you took a little 
more notice of the general behavior and habit of your 
brother, you might be.” 

Thereupon he informed both women of the rescue 
of the two boys from a watery grave. Mrs. Radley 
wept happy tears, but Miss Sullivan was rather sullen. 

“ I shall be glad to help the boys in any way,” 
said Father Fleming, in leaving. And they will need 
help; for they have lost two fine places, and will be 
very much cast down. Where are they ? ” 

‘‘ Both in the country, hiding their mortification,” 
Mrs. Radley said, smiling. They must feel very 


68 The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

badly; but it will do them good: it will teach them 
next time to appreciate good positions/’ 

Well, when they get back tell them I may be able 
to do something for them,” said Father Fleming. 

As he rose to go out, the door bell rang sharply, 
and Miss Sullivan admitted a gentleman who seemed 
to be somewhat disturbed. Both women exclaimed at 
sight of him; and, without greeting, he asked at 
once : 

Are the boys here with you? ” 

No : they are with you,” replied Mrs. Radley, 
growing white and faint. 

“ They have run away, then,” said the gentleman ; 
** for they left my place two days ago, without any 
notice. I heard them talking of some trouble here 
at home, and of getting away West to make their for- 
tunes ; but I paid no attention to it, until they went off 
and did not come back. So I came down to see.” 

‘‘ I don’t believe my brother would do such a thing,” 
Miss Sullivan said in her proud way; ‘‘nor Vincent 
either.” 

“ Well, I’ve told you,” answered the gentleman. 
“They left like tramps, without a word to us; and 
they’re not here where they ought to be. You have 
the responsibility now.” 

The two women came to the same thought, when 
they were able to talk the matter over with the priest 
and the visitor. Grief settled down on the house that 
night. Eddie was frightened at the story told him, 
and the pitiable condition of the mother and the sister. 
Miss Sullivan was prostrated utterly. They saw in 
their imagination the two boys wandering about like 
tramps, herding with them, exposed to wild weather, 
travelling in freight cars, in danger all the time. They 
could not rest or eat or sleep. 

“ You saved them once,” Harold’s sister said, weep- 
ing ; “ will you not save them again ? Leave your work 


Eddie*s Mission 69 

and go look for them. They will come to you when 
they would not to others.” 

“ ril do anything to bring them back,” said Eddie. 
“ But I don’t think there’s any need to fret about 
them. They know how to take care of themselves. 
They have some money. They’re ashamed now; but 
when they get work somewhere, they will write and let 
us know where they are.” 

He described a boy’s way of getting along in travel- 
ling with such knowledge and certainty that the poor 
women found comfort in his words, and began to hope 
again. But Mrs. Radley took up her niece’s suggestion 
to send Eddie in pursuit of those foolish boys. His 
instinct would beat a detective’s, and he would find 
them and save them. She resolved to discuss the 
project with Father Fleming the next day. Between 
praying, weeping, dreaming of the runaways, the two 
passed a miserable night. Eddie’s summing up of the 
trouble was: 

Fool at the beginning, fool at the end.” 


CHAPTER XI 
Eddie’s mission 

M ISS SULLIVAN hastened to make her sug- 
gestion to Father Fleming, that Eddie be 
sent out at once to hunt for the runaways. 
The suffering of one night had opened her eyes to 
many things. Who would have thought that Harold, 
so polite and thoughtful, so devoted to her, could 
run away from home like a common boy, and inflict on 
her so much dread and pain? It was sad enough to 
lose his place in the bank, but that could be made 
up for somehow. To deepen the disgrace by becoming 
a tramp only made matters worse. She did not be- 


70 The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

lieve a human being could suffer what she had suffered 
one night and live afterward. But she lived, and suf- 
fered still. And in that anguish she saw for the first 
time the real character of Eddie Travers and the actual 
meanness of her feelings toward him. From him, the 
stranger, she had really received more attention and 
respect than from the brother upon whom she had 
lavished her admiration, affection, praise, time, and 
money. She was now hoping through the despised 
pauper to rescue her brother, and she said as much to 
Father Fleming. 

‘‘Yes, Eddie is a sensible, good-hearted boy,” said 
the priest. “ He is more like a man in his ways than 
a boy. Misfortune, of course, deepens a nature like 
his; and he has had his share. I think your idea of 
sending him out to find the boys is a very good one. 
But I shall first call on Mr. McGinnis, who used to be 
a detective, and hear his opinion. I think he will be 
able to locate the foolish fellows in a very short time. 
It will be another matter whether they will like to 
return here, where everyone knows their humiliation.” 

“ Don’t you think,” said Miss Sullivan, “ that, after 
the hardships and dangers of tramping like the common 
hobo, they will be glad to get back to decent comfort, 
to their own homes? ” 

“ That depends,” said the priest, and every word 
struck the heart and the mind of the girl. “If they 
have good luck in their journey, and some fun, they 
will keep going, and there is not enough attraction in 
Fallville to bring them back. Neither you nor Mrs. 
Radley ever brought up the boys to appreciate what you 
gave them. They were permitted to have their own 
way in everything. And when you opposed them, they 
opposed you. They are indulging their own way now. 
If you oppose them, you will be looked on as their 
enemies.” 


Eddie's Mission 


71 


Miss Sullivan wept bitterly; and Father Fleming, 
while he pitied her, felt that she needed the grief 
which oppressed her. He had often warned her that 
grief through her brother would one day be her por- 
tion, but she had not heeded his warnings. She went 
home comforted with his assurance that Eddie Travers 
would accompany the detective in the search for the 
boys. 

A telephone call to Hurley’s store and another to 
the house by the Sand Bar brought Mr. McGinnis and 
Eddie to the priest’s house about the same moment. 
The owner of the famous garden had never impressed 
Eddie as a man of power, like Father Fleming or Mr. 
Hurley or the cashier of the bank. Mr. McGinnis was 
fat and red and fussy, and always laughing or arguing 
at the top of his voice. After the agreement about 
the Sand Bar, he had treated the boys well, had never 
interfered with their fun, had piled his fruit and vege- 
tables before them, had helped them to improve their 
little beach. These favors had won general regard; 
and the respect which Father Fleming showed to him 
assured Eddie that the gardener was a worthy man. 
Still, the lad rated him among the very ordinary, and 
could not keep from smiling at his restless ways. 

Father Fleming explained the incident of the day 
previous. 

‘‘Now I want you to take up the case, George,” said 
he, “ and find those boys as soon as possible. Miss 
Sullivan makes this suggestion: that you take Eddie 
Travers along with you, because they may reveal 
themselves to him when they would not to you.” 

“ They can’t help but reveal themselves,” said Mr. 
McGinnis, with a grin. “ I’ll find them inside of a 
week, if they’re hid in a crack of the mountains. I 
don’t see any use for the boy here, unless he wants a 
trip through the country. I’ll just locate the two 


72 The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

scamps, have them arrested and sent home like any 
other tramps, which they deserve after leaving two 
decent women like that/’ 

“ They deserve it, of course,” said the priest ; but, 
above all, the ladies want no publicity. So arrest and 
sending home in charge of the police must be left out. 
That’s why I wish you to take Eddie along. When 
you locate the lads, he may be able to persuade them 
to do things properly.” 

I see, — I see ! And I think Eddie Travers is just 
the boy to persuade the scamps into the right path,” 
replied Mr. McGinnis, with a favorable eye for Eddie, 
who was rolling in delight at the thought of such a 
journey. 

Do you think they can be easily found ? ” asked 
Father Fleming. 

“ Give me six days at the outside to locate them.” 

‘‘ Why are you so confident ? ” 

“Well, it’s this way,” answered Mr. McGinnis. 
“ They were on a farm near Saratoga, you tell me ; 
and both were feeling pretty sore over losing their 
places, and they had made up their mind not to come 
back here to be laughed at; and they had very little 
money, and the only places a boy without money can 
go to, from Saratoga, are New York and Buffalo on 
the way to the great West, where Horace Greeley 
advised all young men to go. Well, they went to 
New York or to Buffalo, and we can find that out in 
Saratoga. They go as far as money takes them, and 
then they take to freight cars, and then to the road, 
or they work on a farm here and there to pay their 
way. Oh, it would take me a long time to tell you 
all the reasons why a week will find them, and per- 
haps a day, if they’re as simple as I take them to 
be!” 

“ Oh, if Harold and Vincent heard that from Mr. 
McGinnis ! ” Eddie thought, looking all the while at 


Eddie's Mission 


73 


the jovial man, who did not seem to know much 
and yet had the esteem of Father Fleming in a high 
degree. 

“Will you be ready to start at once?*' said he to 
Eddie. “We can be in Saratoga at three o’clock, 
and we ought to know before bedtime what direction 
the two scamps took.” 

“ I arranged with Mr. Hurley to let you off for a 
month, if necessary,” said the priest to Eddie. 

“Then Til meet you at the station for the 1.30 
for Saratoga,” replied Eddie. 

“ Now, my son,*’ said Father Fleming, when Mr. 
McGinnis had departed with many assurances that the 
boys would be home in no time, “ you can see what 
our detective thinks about the runaways.” 

“Is Mr. McGinnis a detective?” asked Eddie, with 
his eyes as round as the moon, and as bright as stars, 
so that the priest laughed. 

“ You don’t think it,” he replied, “ because he looks 
more like a gardener. But that is his business. He’s 
not in it so much as before he settled down to a 
home and a garden, but he is still employed on im- 
portant and dangerous missions. Now you never 
dreamed that this jolly man can shoot like an Indian, 
face a den of thieves without trembling, and do things 
which would make most men shiver.” 

“ I would sooner take you for a detective,” said 
Eddie frankly. 

“ You must look closer and deeper, Edward. Go 
up now and comfort the two women with what Mc- 
Ginnis says about the boys. All I want you to do 
when they are found is to persuade them to return. 
You will have a fine holiday with the detective. Get 
him to tell you something about detective life.” 

Eddie went off like a bird to prepare for his journey, 
the first serious one he had ever undertaken. And 
what a pleasant, interesting journey, in company with 


74 The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

a famous detective, who looked like a jolly farmer 
and as innocent as a cow*! Nature had certainly dis- 
guised him for his profession. Eddie resolved to 
get all the stories he could from him. He had liked 
him before for his kindness, but now he respected 
him deeply. 

With what joy the sorrowing mother and sister 
helped Eddie to pack a few things in a small satchel ! 
And how they smiled at his report of the astonishing 
Mr. McGinnis! 

Oh, how true what you said that I would one 
day have to eat my words about this boy!” Miss 
Sullivan remarked to Mrs. Radley, as they stood look- 
ing at him marching proudly down the street to join 
the detective. 

‘‘ ril bring them back,” was Eddie’s last word. 

Never before did he have such a feeling of exulta- 
tion; and it increased with each incident of the journey, 
— when the detective bought the tickets for Saratoga, 
when officials of the railroad shook hands with him 
respectfully, when distinguished-looking men, in pass- 
ing, greeted him like an equal. And Eddie felt proud 
when one man said, with a pleasant look at himself : 

“ Your boy, George ? ” 

I wish he was ! ” answered the detective. ‘‘ He’s 
worth more than I could leave him.” 

Praise from Mr. George McGinnis was really worth 
while. 

CHAPTER XII 

TAKING TO THE ROAD 

M eanwhile what had happened to the two 
boys? When Harold first made his unex- 
pected appearance in the little village where 
Vincent was in hiding from disgrace with their rela- 
tives, his cousin greeted him with a scowl. 


Taking to the Road 


75 


What brought you here? he said. 

The same trouble as your own, my boy. I’ve 
lost my job.” 

Vincent felt like laughing at first, because misery 
loves company; but at the second thought, the double 
disgrace for the family at home, he grew wretched. 

What happened to you ? Why should you lose 
such a place? I thought it was tied to you. What did 
you do ? ” 

“ What did you do ? ” Harold snapped back. 

Nothing. The other man wanted my place, and 
he had the pull.” 

Same here. Another man wanted the place, and 
he got it.” 

Then they proceeded to compare notes, — to recall 
the supposed schemes of their rivals, and to lay the 
blame on them. Neither remembered how often he had 
been warned by friends and superiors of his arriving 
late at the office, and of other delinquencies. They 
satisfied each other that the sole reason for the loss 
of two fine positions was the plotting of other boys 
to oust them. 

And then they took up the question of what to 
do next. It was agreed that they could not go back 
to Fallville and face the gibes of the boys, that they 
could not take inferior places, that they could not 
return to school. They must work for a living; and 
the only thing to do was to travel to some town where 
work was plentiful, and where employers would ap- 
preciate good men when they had them. 

‘‘ I vote for New York,” said Vincent. “ It’s a 
big city, and there must be a lot of work there for any 
one. Then it is so big a town that no one will 
notice just what you are doing. We can take any 
kind of a job, live anyw'here, — pick up a living selling 
newspapers at the worst, and look out for good chances. 


76 The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

It’s a fine place to be, with lots of queer sights and 
lots of fun.” 

They discussed that point for a few days, and the 
lure of the great city almost won them, until Harold 
thought of a serious objection. 

“ How much money have you? ” said he. 

One dollar, and two coming from home.” 

I have ten, which will make thirteen. We can 
sneak down the river for five, I think; and then we 
have eight to live on for a week. But in New York 
I know that prices are high, and for two fellows eight 
dollars will not last long. If we should not strike 
work, and had to meet bad luck for a while, what 
then?” 

“ But we shall not have to wJait for work,” said 
Vincent. Work is as common as blackberries down 
here.” 

“But suppose we met bad luck?” Harold per- 
sisted. 

“ Bad luck is bad luck, of course,” Vincent ad- 
mitted. 

“ Now, I have been thinking what ' hayseeds ’ we 
should be in New York if our money gave out. The 
police would have us in no time, and we should be 
marched back to Fallville right away. That happened 
to Dicky Jones, you know. Wouldn’t we look swell, 
the ex-secretary and the ex-banker, getting off a train 
with a detective ! ” 

“ I never thought of the police,” said Vincent, 
weakly. 

“ Your mother will be telegraphing everywhere for 
you, and my sister for me,” Harold continued. “We 
must keep away from cities. Why not get as far as 
we can from this country? If we keep to the rail- 
road and try to get to Buffalo, we can steal a ride on 
a freight car, find a job on a farm when our money 


Taking to the Road 77 

gives out, or drive horses on the canal. And all the 
time we can hide from the police.’^ 

They discussed that plan for a few days, and finally 
decided on a trip to the far West, and a job as cow- 
boys on a ranch. After a while the scheme began to 
look very easy. They knew boys who had gone to 
Colorado and back on freight trains. Instead of pay- 
ing out money for fare, they could keep it for food. 
The more they talked, the more they saw that mother 
and sister would use the police everywhere to catch 
them. It never seemed to occur to them that the 
women would be in a state of fright and grief over 
their disappearance. They never once thought of the 
money which their relatives would spend in the effort 
to find them. They were fairly good boys, had been 
brought up well, had learned obedience and respect 
for their parents, had frequented the Sacraments ; but 
they had never learned really to love and understand 
the kind mother, the loving sister, who were “ all 
right ” while they petted them and supplied them with 
clothes and money; but the moment they began to 
object to their behavior, then they became as enemies. 

The real reason why the boys could not understand 
grief and terror at home was because they had no 
real affection for any one but themselves. They were 
just as happy at that moment, in the thought of a wild 
flight to the West, and life on a ranch, as if a fortune 
had come to them ; and they thought mother and sister 
ought to be happy too. They did not even take into 
consideration the relatives with whom they were liv- 
ing just then. It was their plan to leave the farm- 
house for a little trip to Saratoga, and not to return, 
or to leave a note of explanation. It would have been 
easy to leave politely; but they had laid aside polite- 
ness, obedience, respect for their relatives and respect 
for themselves. They were going to run away from 
home, to pick up a fortune in the far West, and then 


78 The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

come back some day and let people see what clever 
boys can do when they get a chance. They dreamed 
at night of gold mines, and of riding around Fallville 
in golden carriages, with all the boys staring at them, 
and the bankers asking who they were. 

One night they carried their satchels out of the 
house and hid them in the bushes a mile down the road. 
The next morning after breakfast they said good-bye 
to their cousins, and set out on foot for the town only 
a few miles away. Their first disappointment struck 
them when they sought for their satchels. There was 
no trace of them in the bushes. First they thought 
it a friendly trick on the part of their relatives; then 
it seemed they had made a mistake in the hiding- 
place ; but all doubt was ended when they found a note 
hanging on the bushes tied by a string. A waggish 
tramp had written in it these words : “ When you go 

tramping take no extra clothes or satchels. I am just 
finishing a long tramp, so I take yours. The farther 
West you go, the less clothes you’ll need.” 

He heard us talking last night,” said Harold, sheep- 
ishly ; and he must have been sleeping in these bushes. 
We are ‘ hayseeds,’ and I’m glad we are not going 
to New York.” 

Vincent was so enraged that he could not speak a 
word. He just reflected that they were on the down 
road, and that every move helped them downward 
the more. But now that the start had been made, he 
would not turn back if everything on earth were to set 
out in the opposite direction. 

“Forward!” said he. “We won’t be ‘hayseeds’ 
long, at this rate of speed.” 

In an hour they had reached the town ; before night 
they had a snug place in a freight car bound for Buf- 
falo ; by morning they had arrived on the outskirts of 
a little town, and a friendly train hand informed them 
that the inspectors were about, making it necessary for 


79 


Earning a Living 

them to depart, and to catch up with the same train a 
few hours later on the other side of the town. 


CHAPTER XIII 

EARNING A LIVING 

T he fresh air of the cool summer morning, 
the sight of the green fields shining with dew, 
and the sweet quiet everywhere, raised the 
spirits of the boys, after a night of uproar and un- 
rest in an empty freight car. Grimy with dust, 
cramped and sore from the rough ride, their clothes 
wrinkled and dirty, their hair standing at all angles, 
the two lads stretched themselves, looked at each other 
and grinned. They could not help recalling the pleas- 
ant rooms at home, the soft beds, the ready bath, and 
all the little comforts which they had thrown away. 

Vincent had a rude candor which expressed his 
feelings and opinions promptly. 

Well, Harold,’’ said he, this is not the Kenmore 
nor yet the Waldorf, and our toilet must be simple and 
hasty this fine morning. Methinks I have had enough 
of bunking in a freight car. I feel as if some one 
had pounded me on each separate muscle. Hereafter 
the easy canal boat or the hard road for me.” 

I agree,” said Harold ; “ and I move that we seek 
a small hotel, where a wash, a brush, and ham and 
eggs for the inner man may be had at a low price. 
What sayest thou, Orlando?” 

I sayest that thou sayest well, by me halidom ; 
but first show me the chapel, where I can say me pray- 
ers, minion.” 

“ No prayers,” said Harold curtly. ‘'We are done 
with prayers till our tramp is ended.” 

Vincent laughed, blessed himself, and together they 


8o 


The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

went to a little inn pointed out by the trainman, where 
they put themselves into decent shape and sat down 
to a good breakfast with a score of laborers. The 
latter had to eat swiftly and hurry away. The lads 
could take their time and talk over matters. A weight 
rested on their good spirits, — a shadow as of coming 
evil. They had often read of tramps riding in freight 
cars, and had thought it would be a real enjoyment 
to ride to Buffalo in that fashion. One night had 
taken away all the romance of the ride. Looking 
ahead to Omaha and the plains beyond, Vincent felt 
that a freight-car journey to the plains would be justi- 
fied only by the free gift of a ranch or a gold mine 
when the victims arrived at their destination. Yet 
they had set out to do it, and it had to be done. 

“What are you thinking of?” asked Harold, as 
the last of the ham and eggs disappeared. 

“ I was just looking ahead over the road we have 
to travel,” said Vincent, “ and thinking how we shall 
look at the finish.” 

“ So you have joined the Lookahead Club again? ” 
Harold replied, with a grin. 

“ Sure as you live,” said Vincent; “ though I wasn’t 
thinking of that. After all, Father Fleming was right. 
We have to look ahead; and the earlier we begin, the 
better for us.” 

“ Well, what’s the next step? ” 

“No next step. Fm so sore that I could sit right 
here till next month. But let us look around and see 
what our fortune is to be in this town. If we feel 
better at ten o’clock, we can catch up with our Pull- 
man parlor car on the other side.” 

They went out with halting steps, stopping occa- 
sionally to rub sore spots on their bodies; but as the 
sun rose higher, stiffness left them, their spirits rose 
again, and their visions of pleasure began to work in 
their soft minds. The town lay on a level plain, at 


Earning a Living 8i 

the junction of two rivers, — one coming from the 
Adirondack hills and uniting wtith the pleasant Mo- 
hawk, the river which flowed so magnificently through 
Fallville. At the railroad bridge they had a swim, 
which refreshed them at first, but a little later seemed 
to intensify their weariness and soreness. 

“ I move that we stay in this hotel for a day or two 
and get rested,’^ said Vincent, as they moved pain- 
fully on to the town. 

“ I second the motion and declare it carried,” Harold 
replied. 

My, but you look second-rate, not to say fraz- 
zled! ” said Vincent, with a critical look at the dapper 
little figure of his cousin. Harold loved fine dress, 
and good colors, and no one among the well-dressed 
lads of the bank could approach him in neatness and 
taste. Now he looked frowzy and cheap, and it some- 
what tickled the rougher Vincent to see this descent of 
the exquisite into the commonplace. 

And you look like a Kindergarten hobo,” Harold 
answered, with his sharp tongue. 

‘‘ What’ll we look like when we get to Omaha and 
the plains ? ” 

‘‘ Let us forget what must be, and turn our atten- 
tion exclusively to what is here present,” replied Har- 
old, grandly. 

When the bells and whistles announced the noon 
hour, they watched the workers pouring out of a cot- 
ton factory, and speculated on the kind of lives these 
people led. The men and boys wore overalls pretty 
well ornamented with machine oil and cotton ; while the 
women and girls dressed rather neatly, according to 
taste. They went inside and found an agreeable fore- 
man, who showed them around and explained the ma- 
chinery. 

‘'Looking for a job?” said he, with a glance at 
their tumbled clothes. 


82 


The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

‘‘ Do you want any hands ? ” asked Vincent, with a 
wink for his cousin. 

“ We’re always short,” answered the foreman, — 

that is, short of spinners and weavers. Do you know 
anything about either trade ? ” 

“Not a thing. If we took a place here, we’d have 
to come in as common laborers and learn. What have 
you got ? ” 

“We have place for two boys in the picker-room; 
wages four dollars a week. Any one can do it; and 
you can get board at the company house for three a 
week, so it isn’t so bad.” 

“ Any chance of getting on, — going up higher? ” 

“ Right to the top, if you wait long enough,” said 
the foreman, with a grin. 

“ All right. We’ll think it over and let you know 
to-night, so’s to go to work in the morning.” 

“ I’d like to have you,” replied the man, as they 
thanked him and went away. 

“ What’s your idea ? ” said Harold, as they stood 
outside. 

“ Just to see if I could get a job. I’m looking 
ahead, you see. Now I have got a job for the two 
of us, with wages enough to support us; and if we 
have to take it, why there it is. I begin to feel in- 
dependent.” 

By this time the workers had finished their hasty 
dinners and begun to return to the mill. The boys 
and men gathered in groups, before the bell rang, — 
some smoking and chatting, others trying their skill 
in jumping. The lads joined an athletic crowd, and 
watched with admiration various exhibitions of skill 
and strength. There was not much form in the ex- 
hibition, — round shoulders, bowlegs and bent ankles 
being too numerous; but the strength and skill were 
there, and the factory lads showed a toughness which 
the boys knew did not exist among their own class. 


Earning a Living 83 

The best athlete among them also proved to be the 
best-looking — a straight, well-built, handsome lad of 
seventeen, — who explained to Vincent and Harold the 
worth of each performer, and how successful this 
group had been in beating all comers in that town. 
He took a liking for the runaways, and asked them 
if they were looking for a job. 

“Just got one in the picker-room,” said Vincent; 
“ but we don’t know whether we’ll go on or stay.” 

“ Stay,” said the young fellow. “ You can’t do 
any better farther on. There’s a nice crowd here, 
with a good boarding-house. My name’s Bill Run- 
nels.” 

“We’re thinking it over,” Harold said, “and we’re 
to let the boss know to-night. We’ll look to you. Bill, 
to show us around, if we stay.” 

Bill spent ten minutes describing the pleasures of 
the town and the victories of the factory athletes, for 
he was eager to add these good-looking boys to his 
team; and his liking no less than his arguments won 
the day. Vincent explained that they must now look 
out for a living first of all, and must be ready for any- 
thing; that a taste of rough life would do them no 
harm; that, with thirteen dollars in the treasury, they 
could leave when they felt tired of factory life. They 
saw the boss at six o’clock, had a plain but substantial 
supper in the boarding-house with the other factory 
hands, saw the town under Bill’s guidance, bought 
shirts and overalls, and went to bed in a dormitory with 
four others, — Bill Runnels talking them to sleep in 
his delight at having their company. The rough bed 
was a welcome change after the freight car. 

They had to leave it at six in the morning, in order 
to get to the mill by seven. The former secretary 
of Mr. Willard and the former bank clerk felt rather 
sheepish in blue overalls, as they walked into the 
factory and were led to the picker-room by the fore- 


84 The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

man, after a cheering word from Bill, who then went 
about the mill boasting of the athletes he had just ac- 
quired. The foreman explained to the boys the work 
which they had to perform. It was simply to feed 
the raw cotton to a big machine, which tore it apart, 
shook all the dust out of it, sent the snowy cotton one 
way and the refuse another, and worked at terrific 
speed from morning till night. The boys learned how 
to start and to stop it, how to keep it oiled, and how 
to dispose of its products. All this was explained in 
the quiet of the big room, before the signal rang for 
the starting of the mill. The foreman left them to 
give the signal; and when it came, Vincent turned the 
lever of his machine and began to feed it with cotton. 

In ten minutes the two boys hardly knew where 
they were or what had happened to them. The roar 
of the machinery deafened them, the vibrations of the 
building frightened them, the antics of the picker 
dizzied them, the flying dust blinded them, the cotton 
refuse choked them, and they seemed to be in the very 
heart of a cyclone of noise and dirt. They could not 
hear a word spoken by others; they were afraid to take 
a step in any direction, lest they should fall into the 
whirling machinery; and their distress brought the 
sweat out on their foreheads. It took much explana- 
tion and persuasion from Bill to make them under- 
stand that their senses would adapt themselves to the 
uproar, and in a day or two the mill would be as natural 
to them as to the other workers. 

“Besides,” said Bill after supper (and his voice 
sounded as loud as a trumpet), “ I think I can fix it 
with the boss to give you something nicer, with better 
wages, in a week or two. Now, don’t you worry. 
After you get in with the fellows, and after the next 
meet, you’ll feel right at home.” 

But by the third day Bill saw that his birds would 
fly unless something was done to improve their hard 


Earning a Living 85 

lot. Harold, with his delicate tastes and ways, could 
smell every odor, taste every flavor, of the picker- 
room. His mouth seemed to be full of ropy cotton, 
and even in his sleep he felt for the imaginary strings 
and drew them out. Their new overalls smelt bad at 
the first, but after three days at the picker they looked 
like overalls from the Boer war, — ragged, soaked with 
oil and dirt, smelling vilely. 

I ^ don’t think we are bound to stand this sort 
of thing,” Harold said, when his stomach began to 
turn. “ We ought to be worth something better, if 
we’re worth anything at all. How long did Bill say 
he stood the picker-room.” 

‘‘ Nearly a year,” replied Vincent. 

‘‘ One week for me, sonny.” 

Well, say a week, and then let us ask for promo- 
tion and higher wages. The work isn’t hard, and 
we’re well hidden from searchers. I suppose they’re 
looking for us.” 

In fact, both boys began to feel hurt that some 
sign of pursuit had not appeared. At first they had 
not given a thought to mother and sister, supposing 
in a hazy way that the women would look upon the 
escapade as they did — an amusing lark, — and would 
sweetly await their return. Amid the uproar and 
dirt of the mill, on the second day the thought came 
that their relatives might be rather close on their 
trail. When a whole week passed and no sign of 
pursuit came, they had bitter thoughts of the mother 
and the sister. Out of sight, out of mind, Harold 
quoted. They had no intention of being found, but 
at the same time it would have pleased them to know 
that some one at home was making a fuss over their 
departure. At the end of a week of suffocation and 
dirt they asked the foreman for a shift and an in- 
crease of wages. He was very good-natured about 
it. 


86 


The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

“ I have no one to take your places/' said he. ** But 
even if I had, what can you do? If you take up any 
other work, you must learn it; and you will get no 
wages while you’re learning, and not much for a long 
time after you do learn.” 

“ I guess we don’t care what it is,” said Harold, ** so 
long as we get out of the picker-room. If you have 
any work outside now, we might take that.” 

There isn’t a thing to suit you boys.” 

** Well, can you give us a raise of wages on the 
picker?” Vincent said. 

It never pays above four a week, and I must 
say that even at that rate you don’t run the machine 
any too well.” 

“ We aren’t worth the money, then? ” 

“ Well, I’ve seen the machine run better,” said the 
foreman, smiling. ” I’m not finding any fault, mind! 
I like you boys, and I’ve promised Bill Runnels to 
‘ boost ’ you at the first chance.” 

Vincent looked at his cousin, who returned the look 
with indignation. The secretary and the bank clerk 
not worth four dollars a week ! Incapable of the low- 
est job in a cheap cotton mill! What a jolt for 
jaundiced vanity! The foreman saw their wounded 
conceit, and hastened to salve it with information. 

‘‘To tell the truth,” said he, ” you boys were never 
made for this kind of a life. You have to be brought 
up to it to stand it. I knew your place when I first 
saw you : now I am sure of it. Don’t give me away, 
but I’ll tell you something. The chjef of police here 
telephoned me a description of you this morning, and 
I told him the truth. Some one along the line is in- 
quiring for you.” 

“ Thank you ! ” said the boys together, in great ex- 
citement. ” We must skip. Give us our wages, say 
good-bye to Bill for us, and don’t let on that we have 
gone till we’re a good ways off.” 


Among Thieves 


87 


‘‘ Say, boys,'’ said the foreman, as he gave them their 
money, “ take a friend’s advice : there’s no place like 
home, while you have it. You are not made for the 
road. Go home to mother, and thank God you have 
her and a home.” 

They thanked him, shook hands with him, said they 
were of the same opinion, and would follow his ad- 
vice when the fun was over. But they could not for 
a moment think of getting caught like stray dogs, and 
of going home in the care of the police. Their return 
had to be like a triumph, with plenty of money and 
the halos of heroes. 


CHAPTER XIV 


AMONG THIEVES 


S a result of six days of hard, dirty, disagree- 



able labor, the two boys had eight dollars be- 


tween them. When they had paid their board 


and deducted for their overalls, one lonely dollar 
grinned at them. Harold could not get over his in- 
dignation at the value put upon their work in the 
factory, and he talked of it for days afterwards. 
Vincent, too, felt angry and disgusted. But there 
was no time for such considerations, and they fled into 
the woods north of the town in order to escape the 
chief of police or his minions. Under the strain of 
their adventure, Vincent was developing qualities of 
sharpness; and so the planning of their journey fell to 


him. 


‘‘ Here is what we are to do,” said he, in the shelter 
of the woods ; and here also is the reason for doing 
it. If detectives are as close to us as this, you may be 
sure the police in the next town know about us, and 
will be looking for two boys. So we must walk on 


88 The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

byroads for twenty miles; and when we meet people, 
one must hide till they have passed by. That will make 
them think the boy they see is traveling alone. When 
we have made twenty miles, and slept a night some- 
where, one will take a train at some depot for Syra- 
cuse, and the other will walk to the station below and 
take the same train. We’ll have to buy tickets, because 
we must get ahead of the people who are searching 
for us.” 

Fine ! ” Harold agreed. “ I’d never have thought 
of that.” 

In fact, Harold had suffered so much from the 
picker-room that he looked like a hospital patient after 
a long sickness. Vincent saw this, but was sure he 
would “ come around ” in a few days. He himself 
did not look any too healthy, but his obstinate spirit 
resisted all thought of submission or surrender. Har- 
old had begun to think of the soft beds, the good 
meals, the pleasant baths, the regular life of home, but 
he would not say even to himself that he regretted run- 
ning away. He kept his mind fixed on the Omaha 
ranch and the gold mine, on the grand return which 
loomed up in his mind like a circus parade, with him 
and Vincent in a golden chariot, throwing silver to 
the crow'd, amid the music of bands and the prancing 
of horses. 

Vincent started a little indignation meeting over the 
cruelty and imprudence of Mrs. Radley and Miss 
Sullivan in setting detectives on them. 

‘‘ Well, perhaps they began to worry about us,” 
Harold said tremulously, for he had begun to worry 
about himself. His legs wobbled as they walked along 
the rough back roads, and he had a feeling of all- 
goneness.” He did not complain, because Vincent 
jumped along the ruts like a colt, springy and proud 
and obstinate as ever, and he would not give in before 
him. 


Among Thieves 


89 


“ It’s all right to worry,” Vincent replied ; but 
the story will get into the newspapers (for the police 
tell everything), and we’ll be talked about as tramps.” 

“Tramps! Well, isn’t that our present form?” 

“ Only to get away from the pursuit,” said Vincent. 
“We have twelve dollars in our pockets, and can take 
the express for Niagara, can’t we? Cheer up. Softy, 
and be game to the last I ” 

To the last! Ah, Harold thought, where would 
that last happen? Night came on after they had 
walked about five miles, and it was necessary to find a 
house or a bam for shelter. They had travelled due 
north from the town, and had come into a deserted 
country, not much frequented by tramps and not kind 
to footsore strangers. An offer to pay for a night’s 
lodging met with a sharp rebuff at the first place, and 
the farmer threatened to shoot them if they lingered 
around his barn. The next farm-house was six miles 
off, and they set out for it, with the intention of sleep- 
ing anywhere, if their legs failed them. Harold was 
mortally weary, but he would not complain. Two 
miles on they encountered a half-ruined barn stand- 
ing a short distance from the road. It seemed to offer 
a shelter, and they proceeded to examine it. As they 
walked around it, on its farthest side they came sud- 
denly on a fire, before which two men were seated in 
silence. The four gazed at one another for a full 
minute. Harold gave his cousin a warning pull; but 
Vincent did not believe in caution. 

“ Cadgers like ourselves,” said one of the men in a 
hoarse voice. “ Come on, kids, and make yourselves 
comfortable. This is our hotel. This is the clerk. 
You needn’t mind signing the register.” 

“ Thank you for nothing! ” said Vincent easily, as he 
slipped down before the fire and stared coolly at the 
finest specimens of tramps he had ever seen. 

They were cutthroats pure and simple; sober now 


90 The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

and as deadly as rattlesnakes, dirty and ragged, but 
willing to recognize the lads as members of their 
guild. Vincent had no fear of them, except their 
treachery. Darkness and speed would be enough to 
defy the tramps. But Harold was worn out and had 
to rest. They swapped experiences as the night wore 
on, but Harold at once found a soft corner inside the 
barn and fell into the deep sleep of exhaustion. The 
tramps held Vincent’s attention for some hours. They 
were witty beasts, and had once been real men. Their 
past had become a boast for them. Their present was 
entirely taken up with the chances for a good meal in 
the morning. Finding a listener in the boy, they told 
him all their real adventures, with the addition of as 
many lies as time would permit of; they invited him 
to accompany them in the morning; he secured from 
them much advice as to how and where they could get 
breakfast the next day, and reach the railroad again; 
and all the time he studied the terrible faces and hands, 
the rags and dirt, the hoarse voices and odd expres- 
sions, wondering how human beings could get so 
low, never dreaming that he himself was now “ on the 
road.” One of the men gave him an inkling of the 
truth. 

‘‘ How did you come to be a tramp? ” said Vincent. 

‘‘I dunno; just began walking from one town to 
another; kept it up; liked it, in a sort of dream, just 
like dope, till I couldn’t stop; and now I keep going 
from habit. I’m off to bed now.” 

The other continued to lecture Vincent, now with 
experience, now with morality, for two hours longer, 
when they also lay down on some ancient hay inside, 
and soon fell asleep. Vincent put himself between 
Harold and the tramps. The night was comfortable 
and the lads put aside hats, coats, collars and shoes, be- 
ing half covered with hay. Vincent determined to re- 
main awake the whole night, and to take his sleep the 


Among Thieves 


91 


next day when tramps were not near. With his usual 
confidence, he lay there, listening to the uproarious 
snoring of the tramps, to the sounds of nature in the 
dewy fields, speculating on the strange characters be- 
side him, and the degradation of men ; dreaming of his 
home and his mother, starting up at times to shake off 
the sleep stealing upon him, until at last he dropped 
back like one dead, and slept so until near noon the 
next day. 

He dreamed just before waking that it would be well 
to conceal their money in a corner of the barn until 
the tramps had gone; and he was softly rising to do 
so when he awoke. He looked at the high sun and 
then around the ruined place. The tramps had gone. 
Harold lay in the same position, looking white and 
worn, and his cousin shook him awake. They scram- 
bled for coats and shoes and hats and collars, but not 
a trace of these necessaries was to be seen. Vincent 
felt in his pocket for his three dollars, Harold felt for 
his nine, and discovered that all was gone. Shirts, 
trousers and socks were now the only possessions of 
the runaways. 

Harold began to grow wise. 

“ When a general is stripped of everything in a cam- 
paign,” said he, he must get back to his base for 
supplies and reinforcements.” 

“ Unless,” said Vincent, with great importance, he 
has burned his ships and bridges, like Bonaparte cross- 
ing the Alps. Then he must go on. We’ll hire out 
as farm hands at the next place, and stay there until we 
can refit.” 

As the lads felt refreshed after the long sleep, Har- 
old admired the determination and wisdom of his 
cousin, agreed to the plan, and set out with him for 
the next adventure. Fool at the beginning, fool at 
the end, as Eddie had said. 


92 The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

CHAPTER XV 

THE FARMER 

W ALKING in socks on a rough road is very 
distressing, the boys learned. While Vin- 
cent made light of it, his cousin did not, 
but began to think of many curious things. For ex- 
ample, he had often heard his sister and aunt complain 
of Vincent’s obstinacy, saying that once it awoke noth- 
ing could keep the boy back from his determination. 
His mother’s frequent warning to others was : “ Don’t 

rouse his obstinacy.” Harold realized it for the first 
time, understood what the women complained of, and 
saw that he was to be the victim of it, because he had 
not the courage to resist the stronger will. He was 
sick of the journey and its accidents; he wanted home 
and its comforts; his nerve began to fail, and he fore- 
saw many dangers which might destroy them, but he 
could not stand his cousin’s fierce ridicule, and he still 
dreaded the return to Fallville and the loud laughter of 
the other fellows. It seemed to him, however, that 
some place near home could be found, where work 
would be sure and easy, and all this danger and trouble 
and uncertainty be saved. Yet he did not dare to say 
as much; and while he thought of stealing away in the 
night and leaving Vincent to his obstinacy, his soft 
heart would not consent to the desertion of his cousin. 

As they toiled on, Vin descanted loudly on farm 
life. 

‘‘ We’ll get fifteen dollars a month and our board,” 
said he; “ have good meals and fine beds. With thirty 
dollars, a long rest and good eating, we can resume our 
march to the plains.” 

“Where does the Mong rest’ come in?” Harold 
asked. “ Aren’t we to work for the money ? And 
is there anything harder than farm work? ” 


The Farmer 


93 


That’s right ! ” snapped Vin. Make everything 
as hard as you can, and in ten minutes we’ll be heading 
for home, and the police will put us in baby carriages, 
give us bottles and safety-pins, and wheel us into 
mother’s parlor amid the cheers of the Lookaheads and 
others.” 

This kind of talk at once silenced the wearied Harold 
and helped him to a more cheerful view of the situa- 
tion. 

Soon they came in sight of a farmhouse, and en- 
countered a brutish-looking farmer in the dirty front 
yard. Vincent recalled a criticism of the tramps the 
night previous on this very man : that he would kill a 
tramp as easily as a rat and looked like a sick pig. 
The description was accurate. He looked at the boys 
affably, however, and invited them in. 

“ Easy to see you’re in trouble,” he said in a hoarse 
voice. Never saw jest sech an outfit afore.” 

At the sound of voices a woman came to the door 
and stood looking at them — a weary, sad, colorless 
w'oman, who seemed to have lost all sense of interest 
and surprise. And presently a girl poked her head 
softly out of a window on the side of the house, and 
regarded them with delighted wonder, while Vincent 
explained what had happened and asked for a job. 

“By gum! ” exclaimed the farmer, “isn’t this the 
luckiest thing that’s happened in years ? I jest lost two 
good boys; they got more money up Syracuse way. 
And I was plum crazy about getting in my hay. What 
wages d’ye want? ” 

“ Fifteen dollars a month,” said Vincent “ and cash 
payment every day at the rate of one dollar for the 
two of us.” 

“ High wages for boys of your size,” he said, think- 
ing it over. “ But it’s better’n doing the work alone. 
What’s the idea of getting cash every day?” 

“ You farmers are sharper than we city folks,” 


94 The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

replied Vincent ; “ and we might work two weeks, and 
then get fired on a technicality without any wages. 
We don’t work for any man except for cash.’’ 

“ Square enough,” said the farmer. ‘‘ But I won’t 
hire ye unless ye sign a paper saying ye’ll stay a hull 
month at least.” 

We’ll do that,” said Vincent. 

It was all so easy that the low spirits of Harold 
began to rise. At the worst, they had a decent home, 
shelter for the night, and a chance to earn money. 

The farmer, who called himself Zeke Norcross, 
proved a jovial man. He ordered Matilda, the girl, 
to set a meal for the boys, took them out into the 
shed where many ancient garments hung, and fitted 
them out in farmer style, with rough shirts and trous- 
ers, high boots and rough coats and straw hats, and 
then led them to the kitchen. There he left them 
while he got the team ready for the haying. 

It was three o’clock in the afternoon, and the boys 
were famished. Matilda had placed a pitcher of skim 
milk on the table and a pile of soggy bread, and then 
vanished. The mistress did not appear at all. Vin- 
cent looked at the eatables, and began to pound on 
the table for Matilda. 

“ Have you no butter nor cold meat? ” said he. 

‘‘ Sech things ain’t never seen round here,” she 
whispered; “neither is wages. You folks is caught 
like the others.” 

She vanished at once, and the boys sadly dipped 
the soggy bread in the skim milk and ate almost with 
tears. More trouble, and for what? Just to please 
a passing whim of Vincent’s, thought Harold; when 
at that moment they could be sitting in their cosy home, 
before an attractive dinner, heaped with attentions and 
flatteries by a loving mother and sister! He would 
not stand it any longer. He was going home. Just 
as he looked up to speak defiance to his cousin, Ma- 


The Farmer 


95 


tilda poked her frowzy head in the door and whispered: 

If you run away he’ll set the bloodhounds on 

ye” 

She’s crazy ! ” said Vincent, smiling to reassure his 
cousin, who began to look horrified. 

“ You won’t say so to-morrow,” Matilda whispered 
from the door; and Vin had to shout with laughing. 

Their hunger made the soggy bread and the skim 
milk much sweeter than a better meal ; and when they 
had finished, Zeke was calling to them from the barn. 
In his rough but jovial presence fear vanished. They 
enjoyed the ride to the hayfield, and went to work 
with a vim. They were used to pitching hay as visitors 
to the relative from whom they had run away so 
rudely; but that was play to the work which Zeke 
Norcross took out of them. Until the last streak of 
light he kept them at it, and they rode home only when 
darkness had fallen, utterly exhausted, disheartened, 
and disgusted. 

Zeke joked with them. At the supper table he placed 
a silver dollar in Vincent’s hands, with a compliment 
for his labor, and a reminder that work began at day- 
light next morning. Skim milk and soggy bread were 
the delicacies for supper, and the boys ate heartily to 
fill up the gaps in their interiors. Matilda showed 
them to the garret, where a scraggy, skimpy bed in- 
vited them to short repose. On the stairs she whis- 
pered : 

Counterfeit dollar! ” 

Vincent looked at her with more interest, seeing now 
beneath the weird exterior a wise and daring friend. 
She placed the candle on a box and followed his gaze 
around the garret, which contained only cobwebs, two 
rickety chairs, and the bed. A long, deep baying from 
the yard startled them, and Matilda whispered from 
the door as she went out: 

‘‘ Look out for the dogs I They’re watching you.” 


9^ The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

Even the heart of Vincent sank at this last informa- 
tion. He tested the dollar and found it lead. He 
thought of the hard work and the sickly food. He 
looked at Harold, almost ready to drop with misery. 
In his mind he gave up the fight, but at the same 
time he resolved that he would get even with the man 
who had fooled them so completely. With the baying 
of bloodhounds in his ears, he knelt down beside Har- 
old, and for the first time since his misfortunes began 
commended himself to God. 


CHAPTER XVI 

OTHER EXPERIENCES 

T he baying of the dogs resounded in the boys’ 
dreams, and terrified the stout heart of Vin- 
cent, who spent part of the night explain- 
ing Zeke Norcross to himself, so as to think out a 
plan of action. They must escape, of course; but 
with the stalwart scamp guarding them by day and 
the dogs by night, the chances were small. What was 
the farmer’s game? What did he hope to gain by 
working them hard, feeding them like pigs, and cheat- 
ing them of their wages? He must have done it often 
before, since poor Matilda knew the scheme. How 
had he succeeded with stubborn and determined boys? 
They had all escaped, since they were no longer here. 
Why had they not made complaint against him? 
Probably because, like him and Harold, they were so 
glad to get out of his clutches that they let the mat- 
ter drop. 

At four o’clock Zeke called them from their sleep 
in a cheery voice, saw them eat the soggy bread and 
the skim milk, and drove away to the fields with them 
in his jovial way. Vincent played the same game, and 


Other Experiences 97 

urged Harold to imitate him ; but the latter was so 
exhausted that he could just make the motions of 
pitching hay. He could neither talk nor smile. 

“ ril have to dock you if you don’t work harder/' 
Zeke said good-naturedly. 

‘‘ You’ll be lucky if I can work at all/' replied Har- 
old; and with the word the farmer swung his fork 
on his head, and the boy went down in a heap. 

‘‘ Why, I was jest foolin'! " he yelled, as he rushed 
to the boy’s aid, lifted him from the ground, and set 
him comfortably on the hay. By gum, he’s petered 
out, all gone, caved in I There I — you lie there for 
an hour or so, and then go back to the house for the 
rest of the day. Matilda will take care of you." 

His sympathy was so genuine that Vincent forgot the 
rage which seized him, and resumed his work. Har- 
old felt better after a sleep on the hay, and took up 
his pitchfork again, instead of going back to the house 
to be nursed by Matilda. Somehow, they got through 
the day, — Zeke smiling, Vincent smiling back ; the 
same kind of a supper, the same kind of a silver dollar, 
the mysterious remarks of Matilda, and the baying of 
bloodhounds all night, — which Zeke explained as 
necessary because of the vicious tramps. Not for 
a minute could the boys get out of his sight. 

After a while Vincent thought that the farmer, be- 
ing very miserly, just wished to get their help in stor- 
ing the hay, and would let them go when the work was 
done. It would cost too much to keep two hearty boys 
all winter, even on bread and skim milk. But Ma- 
tilda gave him quite another view of the situation. 
There was plenty of profitable work to be done on the 
farm all the year round; and Zeke always planned to 
get a grip on timid boys and men, whom he could 
terrify for a year into slaving for him. 

‘‘Is there any way of getting out of here?" Vin- 
cent asked of Matilda. 


98 The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

Sham sick, if 5^ou can stand the lickins’,” she said 
in her oracular way, vanishing after each special re- 
mark. 

She became their one diversion. It was impossible 
to keep from laughing at her odd way of doing things ; 
and the boys interested themselves in her method of 
dealing with the terrible Zeke, who seemed to be on 
good terms with her. His wife came and went like a 
shadow, voiceless, vacant, never disturbed or inter- 
ested. The soul in her had fled. Matilda had noth- 
ing to do but keep the house in order, and set forth 
the soggy bread and the skim milk. The boys tried 
to discover how she passed her time, how she enjoyed 
herself, and other things; but they could never locate 
her except when she chose to appear. If Zeke were 
absent, she uttered a single sentence before vanishing; 
and this sentence kept them informed of the course of 
events. Consideration of her last statement- — that 
shamming sickness was the only way to escape, — 
suggested to Vincent the proper plan to be tried. Har- 
old was losing ground every day, as any one could 
see. Twice he fainted in the field; and very soon his 
food began to distress him, so that he ate but little. 

I think we shall have to wind up here,” Vincent 
said one night, after Harold had crawled to bed ; “ be- 
cause my cousin is played out; and I’m afraid, if he 
tries to keep up his end, he will collapse altogether.” 

“ Don’t you think he’s shammin’ ? ” Zeke drawled. 

‘‘ Do you think so ? ” Vincent answered, with plain 
contempt. 

Well, boys will be boys,” Zeke added, with a 
pleasant laugh ; ‘‘ and they can play sick in a way to 
fool a hull hospital staff.” 

This boy isn’t fooling, Zeke. He’ll stay in the 
house to-morrow; and if in a day or two he doesn’t 
show signs of improving, then we go home.” 

“And how about my contract?” 


Other Experiences 99 

‘‘ Look out for that yourself. No one is bound to 
do what he can’t do.” 

‘‘ You can’t deal that way with me/* said Zeke, and 
the good nature faded from his face. That boy is 
shammin’, you’ll be shammin’ next, and I’m to lose by 
my own kindness.” 

** Kindness! You call the three meals of skim milk 
and dead bread kindness? Well, I don’t. Now, see 
here. Farmer Norcross. We’re not such fools as you 
take us to be. We have stood your starvation and 
slave work long enough. We quit just now.” 

Well, quit if you can,” said Zeke, affably. “ Go 
right back to town this minute, if you can outrun the 
dogs. Or go back to-morrow, if you think you can 
fight me before you go. I’m goin’ to git that month 
out o’ you, I reckon.” 

“ Not a minute more,” said Vincent, roused to his 
finest obstinacy. “ We go first thing in the morn- 
ing. 

Zeke’s shrill laugh followed him up to the garret, 
where Harold lay in a restless sleep, dreaming dreams 
in which bloodhounds had a terrible share. They 
were baying outside, and Vincent could see them stroll- 
ing around the house. It was only ten miles to the 
town, but these animals would have a man torn to 
pieces before he had gone half a mile. He sat down 
to think the situation over. Matilda’s advice seemed 
to be the only suitable way out of the hole into which 
they had fallen; and Zeke was prepared for it, by 
his refusal to recognize sickness as more than a trick to 
deceive him. He would use the lash on them, as he did 
on his dogs, and might easily kill Harold in his weak 
condition. 

There remained, then, only two ways of escape: 
either to kill the dogs by trickery, or to fight Zeke 
with an iron bar in the morning. There seemed to 
be no way to achieve the first, and he doubted his 


lOO 


The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

ability to succeed with the other; for the farmer had 
strength and cunning and swiftness. Vincent had 
none. He might surprise him; to hit a man from be- 
hind with an iron bar, even if he deserved it, was 
fearful. On the other hand, to live for a month on 
such bread and such milk working from daylight to 
dark to the point of exhaustion, paid in counterfeit 
money, was too much for human fear and human 
pride. Moreover, at the end of the month, if they 
worked fairly well, Zeke would still hold them prison- 
ers, with his dogs and his threats, and so on for a 
year. Now was the time to strike for liberty, if 
there was any strike in him. 

Vincent looked around the garret for a piece of 
iron, and found it in the leg of an ancient stove which 
Matilda used for holding up the window. He formed 
his plan, after some thought. Harold would stay in 
bed the next day, and he would ride with Zeke to the 
fields, get into a dispute with him, use the iron at 
the first chance, and then ride the farm horses to the 
town, where he could lodge a complaint with the justice 
of the peace against Norcross. He felt weak at the 
thought of all the trouble ahead of him, — the fight in 
the fields; the sight of a man lying half dead, with 
blood on his face; the ride to the town; the telling of 
the story to a judge, and perhaps a stay in jail until 
the matter was settled. 

Oh, why did he ever get into such a scrape? How 
much better to have stayed at home and have endured 
the ridicule of the boys, to have returned to school or 
accepted a lesser job, than to have become the victims 
of this fearful man! It seemed at times as if he 
were dreaming his misery; as if such an adventure 
must be impossible; such a character as Zeke also im- 
possible, so close to decent people, to justices and police. 
He looked around at the garret; he listened to the 


Other Experiences loi 

baying of the hounds; he looked at the pallid face of 
Harold, and knew that it was true. He had made it 
true. He had sought it out, leaving home and friends ; 
leaving the protection of the town, resisting the timid 
fears of Harold, who would have gone home long ago, 
if left to himself. He alone of all the boys in the 
State had delivered himself to this devil Norcross; and 
if he fought him to-morrow he might himself be slain 
and buried in the cellar, and never heard of again. 

Oh, terrible thought ! He had dreamed of returning 
home with millions, in a golden chariot, to scatter 
money among the populace ! Now he had small chance 
of returning home at all; his bones might rot in the 
cellar of this dirty house, and his mother and friends 
would never even learn what became of him and Har- 
old. He fell on his knees and began to pray for help, 
and that he might see home and mother again. He 
felt for his Scapular in the darkness, and kissed it; and, 
realizing for the first time that there was something 
desperately wicked in his conduct he began to weep. 
Ah, how low he had fallen in less than a month! 
From riding in the coach of Mr. Willard, with a fine 
salary and a great future, to weeping alone in the dark- 
ness of a dirty garret, with Zeke for a boss, and 
counterfeit coin for wages! God had deserted him 
deservedly. He prayed again and again ; and he prom- 
ised that, on his escape from this great danger, he 
would lead a different life. He could not sleep, so he 
waited for the first sign of day, thinking over his 
plan of escape, whiling away the doleful hours with 
speculation on the strange life of Zeke Norcross. How 
could Zeke profit by his evil ways? Matilda and the 
poor woman whom he called wife were evidently his 
victims. They worked without hope and had no fur- 
ther dread of him. He had broken them in like wild 
horses, so that they feared him more than they de- 


102 


The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

sired anything else. How could such a character con- 
tinue his infamous career in a civilized country? Oh, 
what evil there was in the world ! 

He thought of his own evil ways at home, — how he 
had interfered with the decent plans of Father Flem- 
ing, and had ridiculed his efforts to improve the lives of 
his poor boys. What wickedness, for which he was 
now paying in sorrow of heart, many hardships, and 
many tears! He could see the good priest coming 
out to say the early Mass, could hear his earnest voice 
urging everyone to a better life; and in particular he 
recalled his pictures of the great evil in the world. 
Ah, he had never believed him until now, when that 
evil had attacked him! A wild desire to do penance 
came over him. He must atone in some way for his 
wickedness. He must restore Harold to his sister 
and to life. He must even give up his life to set things 
right again. He would not wait another day. Out 
of this came his resolution to face Zeke in the morning 
and settle with him without delay. Instead of wait- 
ing for him in the fields, he would meet him after 
breakfast, when the dogs were locked up and the 
horses were being hitched up for work. If he had 
to die on the spot, he would settle his fate that morning. 

When Zeke called at daylight, the boy answered 
sleepily, joined him a few minutes later in the kitchen, 
and began to eat his breakfast, with the remark that 
Harold would spend that day in bed. Without a word, 
Zeke went up to the garret and pulled the lad out of 
bed, with orders to report at breakfast at once, and 
then get out to work. Harold stumbled down in a 
few minutes, white with weakness and fright. Zeke 
looked at him with contempt; but he had a different 
glance for the red-haired boy with the stubborn face. 
In a few minutes Zeke would have paid in part for his 
crimes, — perhaps altogether, if a determined and en- 
raged boy could not measure his stroke. He went 


Other Experiences 


103 


out as usual to kennel the hounds and to hitch up the 
horses. Matilda came in from the summer kitchen 
with Harold’s portion of bread and milk, to which she 
had added a cup of hot milk as a luxury for the 
sick. 

“ Lickin’s all round to-day,’’ she whispered as she 
vanished; but Vincent followed her on tiptoe and 
caught her as she was about to dodge upstairs. 

“Do you want to get away from here, Matilda?” 
said he. 

She did not seem surprised at his action, just looked 
up at him and asked : 

“ Are you goin’ to kill him? ” 

“ Not exactly.” And he had to laugh at her in- 
different look. 

“ That’s what they all say,” she replied. 

“ And how do they all turn out ? ” 

“ Some fight till they give up, and some git done up 
so bad that he lets ’em go, ’cause they’re no good no 
more.” 

“Do you want to get away from here, Matilda?” 

“ Ask me when you git back. The dogs is locked 
up, and he’s with the horses.” 

This was a plain hint to begin, and Vincent slipped 
across the yard and into the barn. The horses were 
hitched and ready; and the lad jumped into the seat, 
with the reins in his hand, gave the horses a touch of 
the whip, and gave Zeke a shove of his foot as he 
stepped on the wheel, saw him fall to the ground, and 
dashed away to the side door with a yell for Harold. 
The whispering Matilda had Harold on the scene at 
the right moment, and he climbed weakly into the 
heavy work -wagon. 

“ Hold the reins and keep on going ! ” yelled Vin- 
cent, as he shoved the reins into his trembling hands, 
and took out the stove leg; for Zeke, with horrible 
curses, had raced after the wagon, and with one leap 


104 The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

had landed on the rear end just as Harold whipped the 
horses for the start. 

The sudden movement threw Zeke backward; and 
Vincent added to it by a second kick, which sent him 
headlong to the ground. He lay stunned for a mo- 
ment, with Matilda calmly observing the result from 
the kitchen door. Vincent cheered as the horses dashed 
into the main road and took the direct course for the 
town. But his enemy was up in a jiffy, and came 
loping down on them before the team could get its 
full speed. Vincent kept his weapon concealed; and 
the farmer, in his scorn for the boys and his rage at 
the advantages gained over him, did not take proper 
pains to overcome them. He seized the hind part of 
the wagon and clambered up, only to meet a stunning 
blow on his head, delivered by a firm hand and a falter- 
ing heart, which shrank from injury and death even 
to this besotted creature. Zeke sank down gradually 
in a heap, with closed eyes and blood trickling from 
his head near the temple. Vincent yelled to his cousin 
to stop the horses, while he stretched Zeke’s lank, limp 
form in the wagon. 

Dead ? ’’ Harold asked in horror, 
can’t tell,” said Vincent, gasping; ‘'but now we 
must take him back to the house and leave him there.” 

Zeke looked very dead indeed; and they stared at 
him long, until a voice near by said cheerfully : 

“Well, it looks as if Mr. Norcross would need the 
doctor ! ” 

And there in the road, in a buggy, sat Eddie Travers 
and Mr. McGinnis, smiling yet serious; looking, with 
intense interest, beyond the boys to the recumbent form 
of Zeke. 


CHAPTER XVII 


JUST IN TIME 

A t first the sound of a strange voice fell on the 
ears of the frightened boys like a sentence of 
death. Who could explain to a stranger the 
meaning of this terrible scene — a half-dead man, 
bleeding, stretched out in his own wagon, at four 
o’clock of a summer morning? But when their dazed 
eyes recognized the smiling and interested faces of 
friends, alarm changed into joy, and they flew to 
shake hands with Eddie and Mr. McGinnis, and to ex- 
plain the situation. In their exultation they did not 
even think of the reasons which brought their Fallville 
friends to such a place at so early an hour. It was 
enough that rescue had arrived just in time. 

Mr. McGinnis examined the unconscious Zeke, also 
the leg of the stove, and then cast a critical eye at Vin- 
cent. 

“ He’s alive, and happier than ever he’ll be again,” 
said he, with his unfailing grin. ** Now we must take 
him to his house, and let his family take care of him. 
Later on we’ll hear his own story.” 

“ He won’t die ? ” Vincent said anxiously. 

“ No : his head is too hard for anything lighter than 
an iron club. Here now, drive back again, while Ed- 
die and I follow behind you.” 

The procession solemnly entered the yard and drew 
up at the side door; where Matilda still remained, as 
interested and as decorous as if the usual had happened. 

‘‘You didn’t kill him?” said she, with a look for 
the prostrate Zeke. 

“ Oh, no ! ” answered Vincent. 

“ Like all the rest ! ” she commented. “ Bring him 
into the kitchen.” 


io6 The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

The four dragged Zeke into the room and laid him 
on the floor. His wife had not yet left her bed, so 
Matilda had to do the nursing. She proved very help- 
ful, followed the expert directions of Mr. McGinnis, 
found whisky and bandages, and stood around until 
Zeke gave signs of coming back from dreamland. 
Then he was put to bed, as the detective thought he 
would be confused and helpless for some hours; and 
the victors assembled for explanations in the kitchen. 

‘‘ First, put the horses back in the barn,’’ Mr. Mc- 
Ginnis directed. And do you, Eddie, put our horse in 
the shade until we want him. While you’re gone I’ll 
make arrangements for breakfast. Riding over these 
rough hills stirs up appetite.” 

While the boys were gone, he enticed Matilda from 
her hiding-place and gave her minute directions for 
the breakfast. 

‘‘ Ham and eggs for four, my dear ; not too well 
done; with fried potatoes, hot coffee made strong, 
your best butter, your sweetest milk, and the lightest 
bread you have in the house. And don’t worry at 
this extravagance, because I represent the judge down 
in Herkimer, and I must have the best. You know 
where Mr. Norcross kept the good things for him- 
self.” 

‘‘ Do you pay? ” asked Matilda. 

“ Regular hotel rates,” said McGinnis. 

“What you goin’ to do with him?” — jerking a 
thumb toward Zeke’s room. 

“Jail, trial, ten years in Auburn,” said he, count- 
ing on his fingers. 

“ He’s too smart for all that,” Matilda replied, 
after a sharp look at the ruddy, fat, smiling face of 
the detective. 

“ I think he’s caught this time,” McGinnis said to 
himself, as he thought the matter over. 

In fifteen minutes the brisk Matilda had a cloth on 


Just in Time 


107 


the table, a few neat dishes, a pitcher of beautiful 
milk, a dish of sweet butter, a plate of fried potatoes, 
another of good bread, and a platter of ham and eggs, 
whose odor filled the room and greeted the boys as they 
came in from the barn. Open-mouthed, they stared 
at the display. 

‘‘ It’s a long time since you saw as much in this 
house,” said the detective. “ Well, the old man fed 
himself well on the sly. Fall in and be happy. The 
like of this may never be seen here again.” 

What a meal they made! Harold recovered his 
health and his appetite on the spot. Vincent ate like 
one famished, and Eddie tried to imitate the easy man- 
ner and prudent eating of his admired partner, Mr. Mc- 
Ginnis, who did all the talking, explained the history 
of Zeke Norcross, the desire of the authorities to get 
hold of enough evidence to prove him a criminal, and 
his expectation that their desire would now be gratified. 
Vincent took out his counterfeit silver dollars and laid 
them before the detective, with Matilda’s explanation 
that they had been paid to every unfortunate laborer 
on the farm. 

“ Three witnesses to his passing counterfeit money,” 
observed McGinnis. “ Why, nothing could be finer. 
Now, when you’ve done eating, Eddie and Harold will 
drive to town and take a note from me to the district 
attorney. Vincent and I will keep house. Before 
night we’ll have Mr. Norcross cooped for good, and 
by Christmas he’ll be in jail.” 

That’s what they all said,” Matilda replied, as she 
whisked out of the room with an armful of dishes; and 
the detective nodded with approval. 

“ She’s right : he’s a slippery villain. But he’s 
caught,” said McGinnis. 

The boys drove off with the note for the town of- 
ficial; and Vincent showed the detective about the 
place, and heard his story of the search for himself 


io8 The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

and Harold, still ignorant of the profession of Mr. 
McGinnis. He thought the red-faced gardener was a 
simple creature selected by his mother to hunt for her 
runaways ; and he felt so happy that the gardener had 
succeeded that he barely noticed the skill of the trailer. 

“ The easiest thing in the world,” said Mr. McGin- 
nis, to track a human being, unless he’s very, very 
clever.” 

And he looked so hard at Vincent that the blood 
rose slowly from the boy’s neck to the roots of his 
auburn hair, as he thought what a fool he must seem 
to the people at home, when a gardener and a grocery 
boy were chosen to track him. 

‘‘ How did you track us ? ” said Vincent. 

First we asked about you in the freight yards, and 
that led us to Herkimer, where you were put off the 
train because the inspectors were about. The train- 
men told us you intended to keep straight on ; but you 
stopped right there, had breakfast in a little hotel, got 
work in the picker-room of a cotton factory, threw up 
the job, camped out one night with two tramps in an 
old barn not far from here, lost your money and your 
clothes, and had to take a job with Mr. Norcross, who 
makes a specialty of innocents of all ages.” 

‘‘ It’s correct,” said Vincent. “ But how did you 
do it? ” 

“ The trainmen first,” said McGinnis, counting on 
his fingers ; ** then the hotel man ; then Bill Runnels, 
who is mourning for you yet ; then the boss, who told 
you we were coming, for the chief of police was inquir- 
ing ; then the two tramps, who tried to sell your clothes 
in town, and got jailed for it; and then my memory of 
Zeke Norcross, who does his farm work with the aid 
of innocent travellers. When the tramps named him, 
I knew we had no time to lose, so we set out at three 
o’clock.” 


Fool at the End 


109 

And did you know about Zeke? asked the aston- 
ished lad. 

‘‘ An old acquaintance since the time I was a detec- 
tive for the Central Railroad, and none of us able to 
catch him.^^ 

'‘You are a detective?’^ cried Vincent in utter 
amazement. 

“ A gardener at present, but I sometimes do a little 
professional work just to keep my hand in.'’ 

Vincent made no sign, but he felt like bumping his 
head against the wall ; and he realized at once that not 
only had Farmer Zeke been cornered, but Harold and 
himself were also in the clutches of the law. 


CHAPTER XVIII 

FOOL AT THE END 

E vents marched quickly under the direction of 
the smiling detective. The district attorney 
took charge of the criminal proceedings against 
Zeke Norcross. The proper forms were all carried 
out. The boys gave their evidence as to ill treatment 
and the counterfeit money ; and Matilda, assured by the 
State officials that Zeke must go to jail, supported that 
evidence with her own. She was placed in charge of 
a lady who would see that she appeared at the trial. 
Two constables were to take care of Zeke, after a doc- 
tor had pronounced his recovery sure and immediate. 
The boys were ordered by the State to appear at the 
trial and give their testimony against their persecutor. 
By that time they were all in the hotel at Herkimer, 
and there was nothing to do but go home. Eddie had 
sent a telegram to Mrs. Radley and Miss Sullivan with 
the happy news of a speedy return of the whole party. 


no The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

Vincent and Harold were so eager to see Zeke get his 
dues, so ready with the proper testimony, that Eddie 
took their return home for granted, until Mr. McGin- 
nis gave him a warning. 

Young Sullivan is sick of tramping, but Radley is 
going to skip as soon as Norcross is in jail. Never 
mind asking why. Just look after him. Use your 
influence to change him. He’s a born mule. And, to 
help you, I’m going to leave for home early in the 
morning, so that he may feel he’s not being driven 
home. If I take him home by the collar he’ll run 
away again. If he’s let alone, and you talk straight 
and strong, he may go home of his own accord.” 

Eddie was utterly dismayed by this information. 
He would not have believed it from another, but he 
had seen enough of the detective’s sharpness to know 
that McGinnis could not be deceived in so trifling a 
matter. Vincent had shown the experienced man his 
plain intention to continue his journey to the West, if 
he could get away. Harold had informed Eddie, on 
the way to town, that tramping and seeking a fortune 
were not to his taste, and that he would never leave 
home and civilized life again. He thought Vincent 
felt the same. For a time Vincent had felt the same. 
The hopelessness of the life on the Norcross farm, the 
desperate character of Zeke, had softened him; but 
when he found that a professional detective had dis- 
covered and rescued him, that he would be returned 
home in bonds like any other runaway, his pride re- 
volted, the old obstinacy again took fire in his breast, 
and he resolved to keep on Westward. He took the 
first chance to suggest flight to Harold, but that young 
man had lost his nerve completely; and, while he fell 
in with the arguments of Vincent, he made up his mind 
that the luxurious life of home, even salted with ridi- 
cule, was a great advantage over the life of the road. 

Vincent planned an early hour of the morning for 


Fool at the End 


III 


their departure, in order to outwit the detective. But, 
on hearing of the departure of Mr. McGinnis for home, 
he began to take things easily; and determined on a 
short stay in town, to see Bill Runnels and the factory 
from a different point of view. So Eddie found an 
opportunity to talk with him sociably on the return 
home. 

I’m not going home,” said Vincent. Do you 
think me a fool, to go back with the senior detective 
and the junior detective, and have the town pointing 
me out as the former secretary of Mr. Willard, res- 
cued and captured and brought back as a runaway, by 
the eminent Mr. McGinnis, and the still more eminent 
Eddie Lookahead, the grocery boy ? Oh, my ! ” 

Then you didn’t get enough of parlor cars and 
counterfeit money?” said Eddie. 

And picker-rooms and tramps,” Vincent added. 
“ No : I’m hungry for adventure ; and I’m going to 
the ranch and the gold mine, even if the Chinese wall 
stood in the way.” 

“And how about your mother? Isn’t she to be 
thought of ? ” 

“ Mothers can stand such things,” said Vincent, 
somewhat surprised. “ All their boys go away from 
home, and they don’t mind.” 

“ They don’t mind ! ” said Eddie, with indignation. 
“ Well, you should have seen your mother for three 
days after you had gone! She made me afraid. Her 
eyes had black circles and were sunk in her head. I 
heard her more than once walking around the house at 
two in the morning, and crying just awfully. I cov- 
ered my head with the clothes and said I wouldn’t be 
a brute like you for all the money and fun in the 
world. The priest had to come and talk to her. Mr. 
McGinnis told her that you could take care of your- 
self, and that he would find you in a week. I think 
she would have died but for him and Father Fleming. 


1 12 The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

And Miss Sullivan was just as bad. And now you say 
you will keep that up, and probably kill your mother. 
Nice, kind, generous boy! It must be pleasant for 
mothers to have boys like you.” 

This language was not the persuasion which the de- 
tective expected from his assistant; but it came straight 
from Eddie’s honest heart, from his indignation 
against the thoughtless and cruel Vincent; and it cut 
like a knife into the other boy’s sensitive hide, — not 
because it was true, but because Eddie Travers was the 
one to speak the ugly truth. So he answered : 

I’m going West, and you can tell my mother that 
I’ll go back to her when I’ve found that ranch or that 
gold mine. Harold will go with me. We are well 
able to take care of ourselves.” 

“ Not quite,” Harold ventured to say. ‘‘ We lost 
every time from the day we started till the law took 
up our case. You can keep on, Vin; but I’m going 
home.” 

“ Then I go alone,” Vincent replied, with a sinking 
of the heart. ‘‘ I said I’d go and I’ll keep my word to 
myself. If I find nothing out West, I’ll get back some 
time and fit myself for a cook on a cattle steamer to 
Europe. Now don’t object, Eddie; it’s no use. I’m 
off in the morning, and your talk won’t hold me.” 

** And your mother ? How about her ? I tele- 
graphed her. Mr. McGinnis will tell her you are 
coming. Don’t kill her. Come home now and run 
away some other time. You can get to a ranch or a 
gold mine decently : don’t go like a tramp.” 

‘‘ Come on home with us,” said Harold, and make 
a family picnic.” 

” No: I’m off in the morning! ” repeated the obsti- 
nate boy ; so that angry Eddie said aloud : 

Fool at the beginning, fool at the end ! ” 

Perhaps,” Vincent said cheerfully, satisfied at en- 
raging Eddie; but I keep my word.” 


On the Canal 


113 

And I keep mine,” Eddie answered. “ I told your 
mother I would not go back till you did, and I’ll keep 
my word.” 

You just keep out of this mix-up,” said Vincent. 
“ I don’t forget what I owe to you ; but you must mind 
your own business, and let me mind mine.” 

They argued in this fashion all day, between their 
visits to the factory and Bill Runnels; and the only 
result was the more vehement declaration from Vin- 
cent that he would set out the next day. Eddie won- 
dered what should be done to check him, but deferred 
action until the next morning, in the hope of a change 
of mind. 

Although the three occupied the same room, Vincent 
slipped away at midnight, and must have been miles to 
the West when his comrades woke at eight. His heart 
was bitter at the desertion of Harold, bitter against 
the charges of Eddie, and bitter at his own feelings; 
for he knew that Eddie was right about his mother, 
that he should at least go home this time, and that only 
a brute would repeat his performance. He fled for all 
that, and threw his friends into renewed despair. 


CHAPTER XIX 

ON THE CANAL 

E ddie could hardly eat his breakfast, so eager 
was he to begin the pursuit ; but first some plan 
of action had to be made out, in order to work 
quickly and well. He had watched the methods of the 
genial McGinnis so closely during the past week, and 
had listened so well to his reasonings, that he could 
imitate him nicely in many things. Before breakfast 
was finished he had fixed all the details of his scheme. 
You must take the first train home,” said he to 


1 14 The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

Harold ; because the women folks will be just crazy 
until they see you. It will help poor Mrs. Radley to 
bear up a little longer when she sees you. And your 
sister will be so happy that she will cheer up her aunt.” 

‘‘ And what will you do? ” said Harold. 

‘‘ Keep right on after Vin. I’m like Mr. McGinnis : 
I feel that I can put my finger on him any minute, 
ril keep near him, do the best I can, and let his mother 
know by letter every few days where he is. That will 
help keep her spirits up.” 

Although Harold felt like joining in the pursuit, he 
was also eager to get home, and to relieve the suspense 
of his sister. No more romantic runaways for him; 
no more ranches and gold mines. There was nothing 
sweeter in all this world than the pleasant home, in 
view of the Falls. So he took the first train for the 
East, and left Eddie standing alone in the Herkimer 
depot, quite comfortable and determined. 

What a surprise to Eddie, as he turned back to the 
hotel, to meet the smiling detective, rosy and cool, as 
if he had just finished a leisurely breakfast! 

‘‘Where’s the other fellow?” said he, with a look 
at the departing train. 

“ Gone at midnight, and we two sleeping at our 
post,” answered Eddie, blushing. 

“ Just as I thought,’' said McGinnis. “ And that’s 
why I came back, after going down the road a bit. 
Now what are you going to do?” And he watched 
Eddie closely, taking great delight in his calculations, 
and his serious, old-man way of setting forth his 
views. 

“ He had only five dollars,” said Eddie, “ and he was 
always talking about how far a traveller could go 
West on the canal. Now he’s bound to keep that five 
dollars in his pocket as long as he can. He has gone 
West. If he went by freight, he knows we might 
catch him; so he has taken to the canal as a driver or 


On the Canal 


115 

a deck-hand. My plan would be to take train to 
Oneida, then hire a rig and ride back on the towpath. 
I’d be sure to meet him driving a pair of mules.” 

I couldn’t do it better myself,” said the detective. 
“ And after that? ” 

Persuade him to come home with me, or stay with 
him and keep writing to his mother every few days.” 

Perfect ! ” said Mr. McGinnis. Go ahead on 
that plan, and I’ll stay here a while to look into the 
Norcross affair again. You can write or telegraph 
me. If anybody can save that stubborn, pig-headed 
boy from himself you are the one to do it.” 

What praise from a really great man! How it 
warmed Eddie’s heart! He set out on his pursuit, 
with the determination to find and restore Vincent to 
his poor mother; and McGinnis stood looking after 
the train that bore him away, nodding his head in 
strong approval. 

Meanwhile what of the more determined Vincent? 
He had thought out his plans during the day, and had 
made some of the arrangements. A chance inquiry 
among boatmen idling along the canal while a cargo 
was taken on, led to his securing a place as a driver on 
a boat that would leave at midnight. So he went 
straight from the comfortable room and bed at the 
hotel to the rough, ill-smelling quarters of a bow cabin 
in a canal-boat. The stable for the mules was just 
beside it; four bunks crowded the narrow space, none 
too clean; and there was hardly room to dress. Vin- 
cent had secured the overalls which Harold and he had 
used in the factory ; his good clothes he folded and 
hid under his bunk; and he fell asleep to the swish of 
water outside, the stamping of the mules next door, 
and the long calls of the deck-hands and the lockmen as 
they travelled onward. He felt perfectly happy, be- 
cause he had got ahead of everybody, and had shown 
that he was his own master. But for some reason he 


Ii6 The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

could not say his prayers that night, could not even 
turn his thoughts to God. 

At six o’clock he was called to do his share of the 
driving. He had tfce day shift that week, and the next 
week would have the night shift. He had to dress 
quickly, go in among the mules and prepare them for 
the day’s labor; and then drive them out of the hold 
onto the towpath, while the other driver and his mules 
came aboard and settled down to a day’s rest. 

The morning sun looked upon the most peaceful and 
gentle of scenes. The canal stretched away through 
an almost level country, like a silver ribbon on a green 
ground. The fields sparkled with dew like diamonds. 
The sweet air filled his body with delight. He was at 
least eighteen miles ahead of his pursuers, and so much 
nearer the golden West. A good breakfast in the neat 
rear cabin, served by a sad woman who spoke not a 
word, had raised his spirits. He did not even miss 
the timid weakling, Harold, and felt stronger for being 
alone. He was glad that his courage had not failed 
before the inducements set by Eddie Travers. He was 
going to see the great world, to become part of it, to 
earn a ranch, and to find a gold mine ; and this towpath, 
dusty with the tramping of mules, was the highroad to 
a great fortune. 

The beautiful vision lasted all day until the sun 
began to go down in the late afternoon. The sun had 
beaten on him, the dust had lined his nose and throat; 
the monotonous travel, three miles an hour, had dead- 
ened him ; weariness began to beat him to the ground. 
And then his bright spirits changed; tears gathered in 
his eyes; he thought of the bunk near the stable and 
the next day’s journey; he thought of Harold at home 
listening to the roar of the great Falls; and all at once 
he saw a picture of Helen Sullivan smiling on her 
brother, and his poor mother walking the floor all 
night, weeping for him. He tried to banish the sad 


On the Canal 


117 

thoughts and the sad scene; he talked to the patient 
mules in a loud voice; he threw stones at the leaping 
fish; he sang songs and joked with the lock-tenders. 
All in vain. As his weariness increased, the vision of 
his mother grew stronger, and he heard again the ter- 
rible words of Eddie Travers: 

I wouldn’t be a brute like you for all the money and 
all the fun in the world.” 

At seven o’clock Vincent drove his tired mules 
aboard, watered and brushed them down, took a swim 
in the canal, and then went in to supper. It was a 
curious place, the cabin aft : so small that to look at it 
one would .think two persons would be a crowd there; 
yet it was quite able to accommodate four at table, 
leaving space for the mistress to move about while 
serving her guests. The neatness of the cabin and of 
its owners showed their respectability. A crucifix 
hung on the wall, and a little altar of the Holy Family 
stood on a shelf over the table. Captain Morin and his 
wife had the faith and the decency of their Canadian 
ancestry; but while he was vivacious and chatty, his 
wife spoke very little. 

The two took a great fancy to Vincent. His big 
head and shock of golden hair, the tender expression 
of his large blue eyes, although somewhat belied by 
the obstinacy and harshness of his face, would attract 
any one. The Morins knew at a glance that he did not 
belong to the canal, but they were so used to the sons 
of the rich and the great as drivers and deck-hands that 
this did not interest them. His wife spoke to the Cap- 
tain in French several times during the meal, and finally 
she asked Vincent point-blank if he had a mother at 
home. So suddenly did the question come that he 
could not keep back the tears, as he answered sourly 
that he had. 

After supper they all sat out on the deck, enjoying 
the evening air, the pretty scenes along the canal, and 


ii8 The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

telling stories of other days. The deck-hands went off 
to bed, but the Captain stayed Vincent. 

“ You must excuse my wife,” said he; but it’s her 
way with boys, and she can’t help it. We meet many 
youngsters, and mostly she is silent, because she knows 
it’s no use. Then she meets others, and she must ask 
questions, — she must know why they are so far from 
home, and if they have mothers. You are one of 
these.” 

Why is she concerned about some and not about 
others. Captain? ” 

‘‘ You would not understand, I guess,” said the Cap- 
tain, thoughtfully. Did you notice that she speaks 
very little ? ” 

‘‘ I did, because most women talk a good deal,” Vin- 
cent replied. 

“ She has been that way five years ; she will be that 
way always, I guess; and she was the liveliest woman 
you ever saw before that. Then our boy, our one 
boy, ran away to make his fortune; and we have never 
seen him, never heard from him since. He was a 
good boy and he looked like you. He would be 
twenty-two now.” 

“ Not a single word of him ? ” 

As if the ground had swallowed him. I spent 
money, no use. I feared he was murdered, but we 
got track of him when he took a cattle ship to London. 
After that, nothing. My God, but death is a blessing 
to it, I guess ! ” 

“ You have no other children? ” 

Three nice girls, but the boy has just spoiled 
everything for their mother. She simply looks at them 
and no more. The doctor says her mind is affected, — 
not much, but too much for us. The first year I 
thought we would all go crazy with her. She walked 
the floor all night, crying like one in great pain. We 
were so glad when that stopped that we bear her silence 


On the Canal 


119 

quite well. When she meets a boy like you, she says 
that his mother must have loved him deeply, and that 
she is weeping for him all night. Then she is not con- 
tent until that boy returns home. Have you run away 
from home, my lad? 

^ But Vincent could not speak, for sobs were choking 
him and tears were streaming down his face. He re- 
called Eddie’s description of his mother walking the 
floor all night, crying aloud for her son; he measured 
the grief of this poor woman by her five years of an- 
guish, by her silence, and by that injured mind which 
could never be cured ; and he was filled with horror at 
his own crime, his desertion of his mother, whom he 
had exposed to the same sorrow and the same danger. 
The kind Captain patted his shoulder and said : 

“ Make her happy, and make my poor wife happy, 
by going home to-morrow. If you need money, we 
can give it to you. We have paid the fare home for 
many a poor boy who, without thinking, brought such 
grief on his parents. Will you go? ’’ 

‘‘ I will go,” said Vincent. When we get to Syra- 
cuse, I will go. I have the money, thank you ! ” 

All at once conscience and love had wakened in his 
heart, and knowledge had come to him. Poor Vincent 
had plenty of heart but no brains, and his natural cour- 
age was spoiled by his obstinacy and his pride. He 
passed a terrible night. His brain worked on the 
story of Captain Morin’s lost boy; and in his dreams 
he pursued him, urging him to return, because his 
mother had lost her mind, and would soon lose her 
life for his great sin; then he got back home, only to 
find that the poor mother was dead; and when he 
looked into the coffin on the dolorous face of the dead 
woman, he saw his own dear mother lying there, white 
and sorrowful, with that sorrow which he himself had 
given her by his sin ; and he raised his voice in such a 
wail of grief and horror that the deck-hand in the op- 


120 The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

posite bunk sat up out of his sleep, with his hair on 
end; then reached over and shook him awake, with 
bitter remarks for his inconvenient nightmare. 

Vincent struggled out of his bunk and climbed on 
deck to get the fresh air of morning. The stars were 
shining, although the first touch of dawn lightened the 
east, and the cocks were crowing in the far-off barn- 
yards. Sobs shook him, for he had begun to fear. 
Perhaps this dream was a warning of what was com- 
ing. His mother might now be dead, and the next 
visit of the detective would be to tell him the date of 
the funeral. He knelt on the deck and prayed fer- 
vently for forgiveness, for the life of his mother, and 
for the poor woman whose son would never return. 

At breakfast Vincent watched the Captain’s wife 
closely, seeing that her face looked dead like a mask, 
her eyes had no life, and her actions seemed to match 
her eyes. A photograph of her lost boy hung under 
the crucifix. He had indeed been her cross, and the 
oilcloth on the floor was worn with her kneeling. 

‘‘ I am going home to-day, when we come to Syra- 
cuse,” said he. “ I am sorry I ran away from my 
mother. I did not know mothers thought so much of 
their children.” 

“ Perhaps the mothers are to blame,” she answered ; 
“ but we think we show our love every minute. Your 
mother will be so glad.” 

He went out to his mules with a lighter heart, and 
before noon was singing as he trudged along behind 
the patient animals. His fears of the night vanished, 
and he had to resist a temptation to stick to his West- 
ward march. Why should mothers make a fuss over 
what must be ? There was no answer to the question, 
only the story of that poor desolate woman on the boat 
behind him. So long as running away set them crazy, 
common decency demanded that children should stay 
at home until they could leave in a proper manner, 


On the Canal 


121 


Eddie was quite right to say what he did; and Eddie 
could appreciate a mother, because he never enjoyed 
the love and ministrations of his own. Yes, he would 
go home and face the ridicule of the town for his 
mother’s sake ; but he would go home in his own way, 
without the aid of the police or their assistants. 

He had reached that satisfactory point when a car- 
riage came along the towpath and drew rein beside 
him. Eddie smiled on him from the seat and greeted 
him. 

'‘Still playing detective, Eddie?” said he, with a 
laugh. " Well, your job is over. I’m done when we 
get to Syracuse. There I’ll take the first train home. 
But you must get away ahead of me. I don’t go back 
with detectives. Where’s the other one ? ” 

" Looking after Zeke Norcross,” said Eddie. 
" Well, I have your word that you will take train for 
home to-day ? ” 

" My word ! ” said Vincent, grandly. 

“All right! Then I’ll take the first train from this 
town here, where I hired the rig, and be home ahead of 
you. Good-bye and good luck I ” 

He turned away and drove down the towpath, satis- 
fied that Vincent would keep his pledged word, as he 
always did. Eddie sensed some change in the boy for 
the better, — something like a brightening of his whole 
nature, which he could not describe, but which made 
him feel good as he rode back to report to Mr. McGin- 
nis in Herkimer. 


122 


The Boy Who Looked Ahead 


CHAPTER XX 

OUR SINS PURSUE US 

O NCE an idea lodged in Vincent's brain, it 
seemed to irritate and drive him forward until 
it got expression. He was so shame-stricken 
at his likeness to the unfortunate son of Captain 
Morin, so horrified at the suffering which he had 
thoughtlessly inflicted on his dear mother, that he felt 
his return home could not be too speedy ; and he kept 
his eyes on the horizon ahead, eager for the first signs 
of the city of Syracuse, where he should take the train 
for Fallville. He would take a fast train and so be 
there for supper. Oh, if he had only followed his de- 
cent thoughts and gone home with Harold and Eddie 
two days ago! He must, indeed, be a brute, after 
Eddie’s vigorous reproaches, to have added more suffer- 
ing to what his mother had already endured on his 
account. 

He had money enough to spend on a telegram at 
Syracuse, which would inform Mrs. Radley that he 
would arrive on the afternoon train from Schenectady. 
Then he began to think of Eddie Travers' appearance 
on the towpath, and the evil in him rose up again. 
That boy seemed to be always following him when he 
was in trouble. He had to admit that Eddie appeared 
just in time to save him from disaster. He had pulled 
him out of the river in the nick of time, and he had 
saved him from Zeke Norcross at the right moment. 
Perhaps a new danger threatened him now, when 
Eddie discovered him on the towpath. But no: he 
was in the hands of good friends. Anyway, he had 
made up his mind that he would not return home in 
the company of two detectives. Who would ever 
dream that a clown like Mr. McGinnis could be a real 


Our Sins Pursue Us 


123 


detective, able to do wonderful things besides raising 
fruits and vegetables? For all that, he would not go 
home with those two friends. He wanted to look on 
them as hateful enemies, always interfering with his 
plans; but his mind informed him positively that Mr. 
McGinnis was a clever detective, and that Eddie Trav- 
ers was the best boy that ever wore shoes. Still, he 
would not go home in their company. He knew just 
what they were doing at that moment. They were 
following him to Syracuse; they would watch him 
until he got on the train; they would take the same 
train and watch each station to see if he got off; and 
they would keep out of sight all the time. He would 
show them that, with all their smartness, they could 
not keep pace with him in cunning. 

When they came to Syracuse and he made ready to 
leave, Mrs. Morin gave him his last dinner, and also 
some advice which startled him. She seemed sadder 
than ever that day, although she had done a good action 
in persuading this obstinate boy to go back to his 
mother; and she looked often at the picture of her lost 
son, where it hung under the crucifix. She spoke at 
last, and told Vincent all about that poor boy, — his 
goodness of heart, his kindly ways, his obstinacy, and 
his final ruin. She forgave him all that he had made 
her suffer, because he did it in ignorance. He never 
knew how much she loved him, never dreamed her 
happiness was so bound up in his welfare. God 
would forgive him too, because of his ignorance. 

But, alas! said she, “ in this life as in the next, 
our sins pursue us. We can not escape them until we 
have paid up to the last penny. We must do penance 
for our sins, or they will follow us up, and we shall be 
punished when we least expect it. You have sinned, 
Vincent, against your mother and the commandment of 
God, which bids you honor your parents. Now fear 
the punishment. Be on the lookout for it. Be on 


124 


The Boy Who Looked Ahead 


your guard. Go straight home as fast as you can; do 
not look to the right or the left until you are kneeling 
at your mother’s feet and saying, ^ Mother, forgive me ; 
I knew not what I did ! ’ And after that go to confes- 
sion and Communion ; take the trouble and the shame 
as your penance, and make much of them. Oh, you 
will be very fortunate if you get home safe, and see 
your dear mother again as you left her! ” 

Vincent became very white at this, and Captain 
Morin gently reproved his wife for frightening the lad 
with her warnings. 

‘‘ Ah, if we had but frightened our boy when he was 
ours,” said she, “ how good it would have been for 
him and us ! ” 

‘‘ She is right,” said Vincent, with shaking voice. 
‘‘ I shall be lucky if God forgives me for my meanness, 
because I never thought of my mother, and she was 
always thinking of me. And I knew better, because 
Father Fleming, our priest, always kept telling us how 
much we owed to our parents. But I thought I knew 
better than he did. Good-bye, Mrs. Morin, and thank 
you! I will write and let you know if I get home 
safe.” 

The Captain went with him to the depot, saw him 
buy his ticket, shook hands with him heartily, and 
promised to stop and see him on the return trip from 
Buffalo; for the Erie Canal passed through Fallville. 
And Vincent was so glad to be on his way home that 
he forgot all about the detectives, and had travelled 
many miles before he thought of them at all. His 
mind was occupied with what the Captain’s wife had 
said about our sins pursuing us, and about his good 
luck if he found his mother at home just as he had left 
her. He became terribly afraid of his sins against her, 
and wondered how he could turn into such a brute as 
not to know that his running away would frighten her 
to death. God had now a right to punish him, and 


Our Sins Pursue Us 


125 


how easily He could do it! Grief might sicken and 
kill his mother, as it had crazed poor Mrs. Morin. 
The train might run off the track and kill him on his 
way. He prayed fervently against these calamities, 
and promised God to do penance for the rest of his life. 
Yet in another minute he had forgotten his promise, 
and did not see the very first opportunity given him to 
do penance. 

All at once he thought of the detectives, and of his 
plan to outwit them. His pride rose up violently 
against them. He would not go back in their com- 
pany. He would even sacrifice his ticket, and get off 
at the next station, rather than accept their escort. So 
he walked cautiously through the train, examined every 
soul aboard, from the baggage-car to the Pullman, in 
order to make sure Eddie Travers and Mr. McGinnis 
were not travelling with him. Inquiries followed the 
examination. There was no trace of their presence, 
although they might be riding in the cab of the loco- 
motive with the engineer. 

The change to Fallville was to be made at Schenec- 
tady; and as the train rushed into the depot, he saw 
the two detectives standing on the platform near the 
train which he would have to take for home. Eddie 
had accepted his word and gone on ahead, and evi- 
dently they did not look for him on that train; for 
both were chatting with acquaintances, and did not 
seem to be looking for him. That should have soft- 
ened him, but his obstinacy was again aroused. His 
better sense urged him to make sure of his return in 
such friendly company, and the warnings of Mrs. 
Morin sounded in his heart : to get home quickly, and 
take no risks of delay. Still, he would listen to noth- 
ing but his pride. He was only sixteen miles from 
home now, and he could take the next train, which 
would not be due until seven o’clock. His mother 
would be disappointed again, but he could send a tele- 


126 


The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

gram fixing a later hour for his return. He knew that 
she was now full of joy over the first telegram, and a 
few hours’ delay would not matter. Better than either 
delay or telegram, he could get a ride on the first 
freight that went out ; for he knew all the railroad men 
on that division of the road. Ah, if his Good Angel 
had only warned him that part of the happiness of his 
life depended on his getting home as soon as possible! 

He slipped off the train on the side opposite to where 
his friends were standing, and hurried into the depot. 
After the train had borne away Eddie and Mr. Mc- 
Ginnis, he went out into the railroad yard, and inquired 
of his friends as to the next freight. With joy he 
learned that a through freight would pull out in ten 
minutes, would take only three-quarters of an hour to 
reach Troy, and would pass through Fallville so slowly 
that he could easily jump off. The trainman showed 
him an empty car. He opened the door and jumped 
in swiftly, so that no one could see, and closed the 
door behind him. Then he sat in the darkness until the 
train had left the city, and was bumping along over 
a track that ran between lovely fields, with the Mohawk 
River showing in the distance. 

He had opened the door an inch to let in light and 
fresh air, when a rough voice from the rear of the car 
roared at him : 

‘‘ Shut that door! ” 

Startled and frightened, he obeyed; and then a lan- 
tern suddenly appeared in the gloom, and his heart sank 
like lead to the bottom of a stream at what he saw. 
Six dirty tramps rose up from a crouching posture in 
the far end of the car, — lowest of the low, monsters 
in appearance and in disposition ; and he knew that his 
sins had pursued him. Oh, why had he not done the 
sensible thing and gone home with his friends? Was 
he always to be the same kind of a fool, learning noth- 
ing from his perilous adventures? Was he to fulfil 


Our Sins Pursue Us 


127 


Eddie’s terrible saying, Fool at the beginning, fool at 
the end ” ? He might just as well be in a den of 
wolves as with these six human beasts of prey. They 
were a morose crowd, who had failed that day to get 
their poisonous portion of whiskey and beer, had been 
chased by the police, and had barely escaped with their 
freedom and dirt from the town. But the wild humor 
of their besotted class did not fail them, and the man 
with the lamp swung it over Vincent and then turned 
to his gang. 

“ Behold,” said he, in a raucous voice but with the 
airs of an accomplished actor, “ how fortune favors 
the fair and the brave! Here is a noble youth! Why 
do I say ‘ noble ’ ? Because, forsooth, he has money 
in his clothes. Mercutio, relieve him of his coin and 
pass over the same to me ; and if one cent vanishes, you 
shall be straightway thrown off the train.” 

Mercutio and the gang gathered about the terrified 
Vincent, and watched the process of taking his money. 
It amounted to one dollar and fifteen cents. 

Is that all? ” said the leader, disappointed. ‘‘ Let 
me examine him. Ah, here is a bundle! Tybalt, look 
into it and report, while I with dexterous fingers ex- 
amine the seams of his garments.” 

By me halidom, nothing!” was his report, while 
the others passed upon the pawn-shop value of Vin- 
cent’s clothes. It was decided that the boy represented 
only five dollars to the company of freebooters. 

“ Are you not ashamed, varlet ? ” cried the leader, 
giving Vincent a shove which threw him against Ty- 
balt, who threw him against another; and for a few 
minutes they amused themselves with this game, until 
Vincent, enraged, broke away from the circle, and 
braced himself in a corner with an accidental stick 
which he picked up from the floor. 

They straightway forgot him in the pleasure of re- 
counting the money, and arguing on the possible value 


128 


The Boy Who Looked Ahead 


of the clothes. The leader proposed a game of cards 
for the purpose of deciding to whom the separate gar- 
ments should go, and this led to endless disputes as to 
who cheated least and most. Vincent would have en- 
joyed the scene for its humor, but for his own dolorous 
position, and for the dreadful fear which had sprung 
up in his heart. Would he escape alive? For these 
sodden creatures thought no more of murder than of 
eating. Not a human fibre remained in their hearts 
and minds. If it occurred to them that flinging him 
from the train at full speed was a diversion, they would 
fall upon him, beat him into insensibility, and fling him 
forth with shouts of laughter. He prayed as he had 
never prayed before; he pleaded with God to forgive 
his sins, and not permit them to crush him ; he prom- 
ised to love and respect his friends for evermore; and 
he wept in the darkness, because he felt that his pun- 
ishment had come and could not be avoided. With 
his usual courage, he resolved that an assault should be 
met with the best defence he could put up. He had a 
chance at Fallville, unless the tramps should notice the 
slowing up of the train and take charge of the door. 

Mercutio and Tybalt won nothing in the game, but 
lost whatever they had ; so they turned their attention 
to the boy in the corner. 

“ Methinks this ruffian youth hath too many fine 
clothes upon his person,’' said one to the other; and, 
with the permission of our right royal and worshipful 
master, who has stripped us of all, we shall also strip 
the youth of all.” 

‘‘ Granted,” said the chief, indifferently. 

“ Come, fair youth, mamma’s darling! ” said Tybalt, 
as the two rascals advanced upon Vincent. “ Surren- 
der what clothes still remain to thee.” 

Vincent raised his stick and gripped it for a good 
blow ; and the tramps paused a few feet away, cursing 
him in hoarse voices, while the others looked up from 


Oiir Sins Pursue Us 


129 


their cards and laughed at them for their cowardice. 
The train was approaching Fallville, and had gradually 
reduced its speed. It was now or never with Vin- 
cent. He heard the whistle which sounded the ap- 
proach of the train to the yard, then poked his stick into 
the dirty face of Tybalt and sent him in a heap on the 
card-players ; afterward he brought the stick down on 
the head of Mercutio with a tremendous whack ; rushed 
through the crowd, smashed the lamp with a kick, and 
then threw open the door with a yell which was heard 
by every man in the yard, on the train, and around 
the station. The tramps lost their heads, with the 
exception of their leader, who saw Mercutio fall, the 
lamp smashed, and the door thrown open by the infuri- 
ated boy. He knew that the yell would bring the train 
to a stop, and every trainman to a murderous attack 
on his band (for railroad men know the professional 
tramp through bitter experience) ; and that they would 
have to scatter and foot it to Troy, if they did not end 
in jail. 

Vincent threw open the door, seized the loose iron 
clasp and prepared to swing off the train, when the 
chief stretched out his foot, gave him the trip, and then 
struck his hand a sharp blow. The lad fell under the 
train, with a scream of terror so piercing, and follow- 
ing so closely on his first cry, that the tramps tumbled 
out of the car and fled, while men came running in all 
directions, and the station man signalled the engineer to 
stop. 

Alas, the terrible injury was done beyond recalling! 
They found a boy lying near the track, alive but uncon- 
scious, apparently untouched, until they examined him ; 
when his right foot dangled, and the men recognized 
that the train had passed over the leg just above the 
ankle, and the shock of the fall and the fright had left 
him senseless. But why the yell of warning and the 
shriek of terror? One look at the empty car, with its 


130 The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

scattered cards, smashed lantern, and dirty clothes, ex- 
plained the case, and set the men running in every 
direction after the tramps, who, with the aid of the 
police, were all caught and caged on a charge of mur- 
der before the night set in. 

Thus poor Vincent Radley came home! After all 
his plans, all his dreams of returning with money in a 
golden chariot, after his determination to return at 
least free and unhampered by the officers of the law, 
and with his escapade unknown, here he lay on the 
open road, surrounded by a crowd of trainmen, doc- 
tors, and policemen, a maimed and disgraced boy. It 
seemed a long time until the distressing details were 
over, and he lay in bed, pale and exhausted, after re- 
ceiving the last Sacraments from Father Fleming, 
after giving his deposition to the officers of the law 
and recognizing his would-be assassin, with his mother 
beside him, holding his hand; and Eddie in the dis- 
tance, with tear-wet face, ready for any service to 
mother and son. Alas, alas, how our sins do pursue 
us, even into the days of our repentance and atone- 
ment! 


CHAPTER XXI 

DOING PENANCE 

E ddie often wondered at the strange way in 
which good springs out of evil. He saw so 
many examples of it daily that he got the habit 
of looking for it; and as he sat one night in the com- 
mon room, with Harold chattering on one side and 
Vincent arguing in his positive way on the other, he 
thought of it the more. Here they were together in 
the old room, as ‘‘ chummy and loving as in past 
days; but his comrades had changed so decidedly for 
the better that they did not seem to him just the same 


Doing Penance 


131 

boys. The evil of the summer escapade had been a 
terrible thing, and was still a horrible memory; for 
Vincent sat with the injured leg on a chair, the clothes 
concealing the absence of foot and ankle, while the 
crutch close by told the mournful story. Yet out of 
that evil had come a boy so noble in thought and word 
and feeling that Harold and Eddie seemed rather com- 
monplace beside him. 

Vincent was so handsome a fellow, with his sunny 
hair and his white skin, his delicate hands and straight 
figure, that the patience and resignation of his new 
self shone like two diamonds in a beautiful setting. 
Eddie had always secretly worshipped him; now he 
loved him better than himself, and would cheerfully 
have died to serve him. In the long sickness Harold 
and he had cared for him, according to the hospital 
nurses, better than the nurses themselves. When he 
was brought back to his mother’s house, Harold took 
care of him, as he had nothing to do, and with much 
seeking could find no position worth while. Eddie 
spent all his free time at Vincent’s side. Never before 
had the three boys been so much together, or enjoyed 
so good an understanding of one another. The run- 
aways had a fixed opinion of Eddie : that for courage, 
goodness and cleverness there was not another like 
him in the whole world. Themselves they had marked 
down, to use their own expressive commercial phrase, 
from one hundred thousand dollars to thirty-nine cents. 
Harold was even willing to go to work as a newsboy, 
but neither his sister nor Eddie would permit this. 

Father Fleming dropped in often to see the patient, 
quite carried away with the beautiful disposition which 
had developed in Vincent under the chastening influ- 
ence of calamity. There seemed to be nothing to teach 
him in humility and patience. 

Experience is a terrible teacher,” he said to the 
priest, as he looked at his maimed leg. ‘‘ But I can 


132 The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

see now that I am one of those fellows who do not 
learn well under any other teacher. My head is very 
hard.’’ And he rapped it as if to show that the natural 
hollowness was not in it. 

‘‘ Make sure that you have learned this first lesson 
so well that you will never need the terrible teacher 
again,” was Father Fleming’s warning. 

Who can be sure of that? ” said Vincent, humbly. 

But I have a fine reminder of the teacher in this 
crutch.” 

Harold bore his idleness patiently, and spent some 
time daily studying the town and the chances for a de- 
sirable position, practising diligently at arithmetic and 
bookkeeping so as to be prepared. His sister worried 
over the matter, and finally sought Eddie’s advice and 
help. 

“ I am thinking of going to New York to live,” said 
she ; ‘‘ and, now that there seems to be nothing for 
Harold to do in Fallville, I really think it would be 
better in every way for him and me to leave here.” 

Well, if you go to New York,” said Eddie, '' I can 
give him a letter of introduction to Mr. Sullivan, who 
told the Lookaheads that he would help any one of 
them to a job, to oblige Father Fleming.” 

“ Thank you ! ” said Miss Sullivan, hardly able to 
keep from smiling at the simple, old-fashioned speech. 

And Fm sure a letter from you would go a good way 
with Mr. Sullivan.” 

But, then, I don’t really think that Harold needs 
to leave town,” Eddie continued. ‘‘ Fve been looking 
out for him, and I think he can secure a place in an- 
other bank, if he can get the right recommendation.” 

“ Would they take a boy that had been dismissed 
from one bank for a serious fault? ” 

‘‘ Oh, yes, because Harold was just tardy, and he did 
not mind when he was warned about it I His general 
conduct was all right.” 


Doing Penance 


133 

** And how do you think he could get the right sort 
of a recommendation?” said Miss Sullivan, who had 
come to regard Eddie with great respect and affection, 
and was also curious to learn how he managed to do 
things so well. 

If Father Fleming would speak to Mr. McGinnis 
for him,” Eddie replied, there is a place in the Wash- 
ington Bank which will soon be vacant, because Jack 
Lorimer is going out West. Mr. McGinnis is a di- 
rector in the bank.” 

“ I should be afraid to ask Father Fleming to do 
anything,” observed Miss Sullivan ; “ he has been so 
kind, and the boys have not returned his kindness, 
except by giving him trouble.” 

Father Fleming doesn’t mind that, because he’s 
used to it. And, then, you know, Harold has been 
very good since he came back, and he never was worse 
than being a little careless.” 

“ M’^ould you mind speakng to him and to Mr. Mc- 
Ginnis? ” 

“If you say so. I’ll do it. Miss Sullivan.” 

“ It will only add another item to what we owe you,” 
said the young lady, so fervently that Eddie blushed. 
“ But you surprise me very much about Mr. McGinnis. 
Is he so well off that he can be a director in a bank? ” 

“ He must be, and he is a great man. Miss Sullivan. 
I used to think he was nobody ; but, since the summer, 
I have heard ever so many things about him that make 
him seem different to me. And he is the kindest and 
bravest man in the world.” 

Eddie felt some hesitation about speaking to the 
great man, because it did look like trading on his good 
nature to ask him to place a boy whom he had pursued 
as a detective. But Eddie would face the Czar of Rus- 
sia in behalf of a friend; and so he called on Mr. Mc- 
Ginnis in his house at the end of the garden, and found 
Father Fleming with him. He would have with- 


134 Who Looked Ahead 

drawn, but the priest insisted on his sitting down and 
attending to business. 

‘‘ Here is a boy,'' said he, '' that once thought the 
owner of the Sand Bar a very poor stick, but who has 
changed his mind and looks upon him now as a won- 
der." 

Well, I may say the same for myself," the detec- 
tive answered, with his broad grin. I thought Eddie 
an imp ; but after our little trip together, I'm ready to 
back him for Congress. I can tell by his looks that 
he's after something, and of course it's for somebody 
else." 

‘‘ You can tell what most people are thinking of," 
said Eddie, full of admiration. “ I came over to ask 
you to get Harold a place in the Washington Bank. 
Jack Lorimer is going to leave soon, and his place will 
be vacant." 

Why not take the place yourself, Eddie? " said the 
priest. 

“ I'm not going to be a banker," said Eddie, but a 
grocer. I must stick to the business until I learn it." 

Banking is better," said Mr. McGinnis. 

I suppose so ; but I like the other business, because 
there’s more life in it, and more moving around. I 
wouldn't care to be cooped up in a house all my life, 
chasing figures." 

The same spirit made me a detective," said Mr. 
McGinnis. 

‘‘ How can you ask a director of the bank to appoint 
a young man who got dismissed from one bank and 
then ran away from home?" said Father Fleming. 

It is cheeky," replied Eddie ; but I thought you 
could recommend Harold, for you know how he has 
changed." 

The gentlemen laughed, and Eddie knew that he had 
won his request. He went away with the assurance 


135 


An Enemy 

that Harold would get the place, if the detective had 
any influence with his brother directors. 

A great boy, that,^’ Mr. McGinnis said when the 
door closed on him. 

“ Well, see to it that he moves up quickly,” said Fa- 
ther Fleming. “ I want him right here while Fm in 
Fallville; for he’s the best and strongest influence I 
have in dealing with the boys. He’s a diamond.” 


CHAPTER XXII 

AN ENEMY 

S O Harold, dressed in his best, took his place once 
more among the financiers ; and the home began 
to look like itself again, with that elegant youth 
coming and going in the most becoming clothes, orna- 
mented with gems, and four-in-hand ties of the popular 
shade. When Vincent was strong enough to go about, 
Eddie insisted on a daily visit to the grocery where 
he labored and studied so patiently; and, sitting in a 
chair at the back, Vin could see what was done, study 
the customers, and in the intervals of trade chat with 
the proprietor. It was quite interesting, and the many 
details of the work showed that the grocery business 
was not to be despised. 

Mr. Hurley was a middle-aged man, with too much 
fat on his body, but none in his brain. He had smiled 
so much in conducting his store that the smile remained 
night and day, sleeping or waking, and won him cus- 
tomers. He was really a kind, benevolent man, and 
he thought highly of the boy who did the outside work. 
For Eddie’s was not too easy a job. He carried a 
basket often, wheeled a little wagon for the larger 
loads, and travelled many miles a day. Then he helped 


136 The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

to do up packages, kept the store clean and in order, 
and was the handy man about the place. Mr. Hurley 
declared him the steadiest, best boy in the whole town. 

Most boys,” said Mr. Hurley to Vincent, just 
do their work and run away. But Eddie works as if 
this store was his. He examines everything. He 
knows where everything comes from, — coffee and tea 
and sugar and canned salmon.” 

If he weren’t so slow,” said a voice from the desk, 
to which the grocer did not pay any attention; but 
Vincent looked up at the speaker curiously. Formerly 
he would have taken fire at such a remark, and have 
hotly replied; but now he just turned the great blue 
eyes and pale face on the rude speaker, who returned 
his glance disdainfully. 

Tom Benson knew why this boy had lost his foot 
and his fine position as secretary to a millionaire. He 
had heard it from Miss Sullivan, whom he visited so 
regularly that people began to smile and whisper about 
a coming marriage. Tom was a slender, sandy-haired 
youth of twenty-five, whose eyes were so pale a blue 
that at a distance he seemed to have none. He looked 
worn and sour, as if it were easier for him to eat pickles 
than cake. As the nephew of Mr. Hurley and his 
probable heir, he held the place of bookkeeper and gen- 
eral manager, bossed everybody, and made it so un- 
comfortable for most boys that they did not remain 
long in the employ of his benevolent uncle. The kind 
Mr. Hurley never noticed that his boys left chiefly on 
account of the rough ways of Tom. His nephew was 
always kind, obedient, polite and faithful to him, and 
the good man supposed he was the same to all the rest 
of mankind. Vincent measured him quietly, and saw 
that Eddie had his own cross to bear. Tom Benson 
would be trial enough for any saint or sinner whom 
he chose to rest on. He was content with Eddie, the 


137 


An Enemy 

patient and uncomplaining, who never spoke of him, but 
made his upward climb as if such disagreeable crea- 
tures did not exist. Tom Benson had heard many 
complaints of Vincent from Miss Sullivan, who had 
not been as discreet in her criticism as she should have 
been; and his opinion of the maimed boy seemed to 
intimate that he had earned his affliction and well de- 
served it. 

While the old man talked, Vincent studied the sandy 
haired nephew. Eddie came back with an empty 
basket, and Benson said coldly and curtly, 

“Ten minutes late! Take out the wagon for the 
next load.^^ 

Eddie returned after a certain time with the empty 
wagon, and Benson said in the same disagreeable way, 

“ Fifteen minutes late 1 Flirting, I suppose, or read- 
ing the latest novel.’^ 

The clerk spoke his reproaches in a low tone with 
an indifferent air, as if talking about the weather, 
so that the proprietor did not catch what he was say- 
ing. He never missed a chance to fling an epithet, but 
the boy paid no more attention than to the sounds 
in the street. Watching Benson’s face, Vincent saw in 
his pale eyes and curling lip the fire of hatred; so he 
said in a loud, clear voice, at a favorable moment : 

“ How do you like the work of Eddie Travers 
since he came here, Mr. Hurley?^’ 

“ The best boy that ever wore shoe leather,” Mr. 
Hurley replied. “ I would not lose him for twice 
what I pay him. I had boy after boy, but none of 
them were any good ; couldn’t depend on them. 
Strange how hard it is to get a good worker among 
boys.” 

“ Don’t you think,” said Vincent, with great de- 
liberation, “that it’s the way a boy is handled that 
holds him to a job? Now, if a sour boss is forever 


138 The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

nagging at him, telling him he is no good, or always ten 
minutes late, or can’t learn, isn’t he sure to drop the 
job in the end? ” 

“ Why shouldn’t he ? ” said the grocer, with indig- 
nation. Only a mule can stand nagging. But in 
this store I don’t permit it.” 

Tom Benson turned a malignant glare on Vincent 
during these remarks, and almost snarled at the placid 
face which accused him so openly and boldly. A few 
minutes later Vincent found an opportunity to give 
Benson a warning. 

“ You heard what your uncle said. You treat Ed- 
die Travers like a cur. You hate him. Now let up 
on it, or the right people shall be told some things 
about you that won’t improve your position with 
them.” 

The face of Tom Benson turned so white at the 
rebuke that Vincent wondered, but he made no reply 
except to turn his back on the lad. While Vincent 
was indignant at his nagging of Eddie, he was also 
half joking in his hint that Miss Sullivan might hear 
of his conduct. But other thoughts were in Tom 
Benson’s mind, and the threat shook his nerve to 
the foundation. Miss Sullivan had taught him to 
despise Eddie Travers as a poor creature, fitter for the 
slums than for decent company. She had talked in 
that way until Eddie had not only served her well, 
but had shown her his superior nature and something 
of her own deficiency. In her flippant, petulant way 
she had also given Vincent a poor standing, and so 
Tom Benson felt only contempt for the runaway and 
the pauper. From that moment, however, he never 
spoke to Vincent, and he ceased to vent his irrita- 
tion on Eddie. People who live in glass houses can 
not afford to throw stones. 

Why do you stand him, Eddie ? ” was Vincent’s 


The Struggle Begins 139 

inquiry that night in the common room, after a re- 
cital of Benson’s behavior. 

‘‘ I must stand it,” replied Eddie. “ It doesn’t hurt 
me. I must get on, and learn the business, and Mr. 
Hurley is good to me. If Tom Benson were not there, 
I should have too easy a time. He keeps me up to 
the mark, and he reminds me of what I must never 
be — a nagger. If he can stand it, I can.” 

‘‘ Why don’t you complain to the boss ? ” 

He wouldn’t believe it. He’s fond of his nephew, 
and Tom is good to the old man. If one of us must 
go. I’m the one, and I mean to stay.” 

“ Well, I think I put a spoke in his wheel for one 
day.” 

“You surely did,” said Eddie; “for I noticed he 
never even looked my way after you left the store.” 

“ Be careful just the same; for if looks could kill, 
we’d have had a funeral here long ago.” 

Vincent saw this silent hate many a time after- 
ward in his visits to the store, but the nagging ceased. 
Tom Benson had selected other plans to get rid of 
Eddie Travers, and he had a fear that the watchful 
eyes of Vincent might discover them in time. 


CHAPTER XXIII 

THE STRUGGLE BEGINS 

I T became very clear to Eddie that his enemy sim- 
ply wished to get him out of the store, and that 
he had no particular dislike of him, except what 
rose from Eddie’s firm determination not to leave the 
place because of his persecution. Benson’s reasons for 
wishing to get rid of Eddie Travers were chiefly that 
he was a pauper, too patient and sensible to reply to 


140 The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

his fault-finding, and much superior to himself in 
honesty, truthfulness, and industry. In time he be- 
came jealous of the boy, and fearful lest his uncle 
should take a fancy to him and promote him. If a 
boy like Eddie — so honest, clear-headed, and courage- 
ous — ever entered the office, the secret career of Mr. 
Thomas Benson might be laid open to the public view. 
When Vincent spoke so boldly to him about exposure, 
he became certain that the errand boy of the store 
had detected some of his delinquencies. He had to 
discover what Eddie knew, and then to force him 
out of his position in such a way that no blame should 
attach to himself. He gave up open persecution, and 
began to lay plans for disgracing Eddie before his 
uncle. How it galled him to hear the boss praise the 
boy! And when one day Mr. Hurley, after discours- 
ing on Eddie’s merits, ordered his nephew to take him 
into the office secrets and routine, and prepare him for 
promotion later on, he flatly declined. 

1 get on very well as I am,” was his excuse; 
and I can’t stand that boy, with his slow ways.” 

‘‘ Well, I’ll take him in hand myself,” said the 
uncle. ‘‘ I’m surprised that you do not like his work 
and his character, too.” 

‘‘He puts on his best face to you. Uncle; but if 
you dealt with him as closely as I do, you would 
not be so anxious to promote him.” 

“ I thought I dealt pretty closely with him,” said 
the other, quite offended. “ But since you say he has 
one face for you and another for me. I’m going to test 
him in person and you can look on. I’ll have no hypo- 
crites around this store.” 

He looked so directly at his nephew, even while he 
smiled, that Tom’s heart fluttered. However, this 
was the opportunity for driving out Eddie Travers, and 
he laid his plans neatly and effectively. Although he 
was old-fashioned in his way of doing business, Mr. 


The Struggle Begins 141 

Hurley kept a close watch on the administration. He 
left nothing but the office to his subordinates, studied 
them carefully, and was quite satisfied that every man 
did his duty fairly well. His admiration for Eddie re- 
ceived a severe check when Tom Benson declined to 
receive him into the office. His confidence in his own 
discernment also was shaken. If his nephew saw 
what he did not, then his powers must be failing, and 
he must be a very easy victim to the wiles of hypo- 
crites. 

Eddie opened the store at a certain hour every morn- 
ing, and had everything ready for business by seven 
o’clock. To save time, he did his sweeping in the 
evening, staying a half hour later than the others; 
and then did the dusting in the morning. Mr. Hurley 
made a tour of inspection the next morning after his 
dispute with his nephew, and was shocked at what he 
saw. The open places had been carefully swept, but 
the secret places were simply filthy, although he had 
instructed the boy carefully on this point. He made no 
complaint, because Tom had suggested that he ob- 
serve in silence until he had a list of the lad’s failures. 
The second morning he himself arrived at the store 
before the usual hour, just to see if Eddie was on 
time. 

Now, that morning a curious and unlooked-for thing 
had happened to Eddie. On the way down to the 
store one of the young toughs, whom the Lookaheads 
had beaten into shape and into order in the battle over 
the Sand Bar, encountered him as if by accident, re- 
cited his woes and his feelings in a loud voice, and 
demanded instant satisfaction. In vain Eddie re- 
quested a more convenient time for a meeting on the 
field of honor. Finally, seeing that time was wasted 
in discussion, he demolished his adversary and went 
his way. Encounters in the early morning became so 
frequent that Eddie had at last to arrange with the 


142 


The Boy Who Looked Ahead 


Lookaheads to accompany him to the store and to take 
care of the “ bushwhackers ” on the way. By that time 
he understood who set them on, but he did not dream 
how far his enemy had carried his schemes. 

Mr. Hurley had witnessed one of these encounters, 
and regretted Eddie’s ability and skill in a fight. The 
dirty store, the rowdyism in the streets, and the late 
arrival, were quite enough to prove his nephew’s con- 
tention. But more than that appeared. Tom Benson 
showed him how little articles vanished from the 
shelves, — such things as a boy would like and a man 
would not care for. He drew papers of dubious char- 
acter out of Eddie’s overcoat pockets, along with ciga- 
rettes and other objectionable things. In fact, he kept 
up such a fire on the boy’s good character that Mr. 
Hurley dropped the project of promoting him. He 
knew now that it would be only a question of time 
when Eddie would go like the others, and he began 
to wonder if there was really a boy worth while in 
the whole town. 

Eddie had opened his eyes to the real character of 
Tom Benson only when he had to fight his old enemies. 
He had seen the dirt in the corners, and missed the 
little articles, and had wondered at the smell of ciga- 
rettes in his clothes. But these incidents happened 
only once, and he did not connect them with himself in 
any way. But when the Lookaheads had to turn out 
to fight the various toughs who waylaid him of morn- 
ings, he began to speculate on the nature of Tom 
Benson. Mr. Hurley had grown distant with him 
of late, but still wore his old smile. All at once the 
truth flashed on him. The nephew was filling the 
uncle with lies about him. What better explanation 
for the queer things happening ? But could any human 
being, in particular a Catholic, who went to church 
once in a while, be guilty of such villainy? It seemed 
impossible, yet a little watching showed him that Tom 


The Struggle Begins 143 

Benson had enough of evil in him to injure a rival. 
A sharp inquiry proved that he had paid the boys 
who had attacked him in the streets of mornings ; had 
hired them to take a thrashing just to delay Eddie 
on his way to the store. Very likely the uncle had 
seen the fights, had noticed the foreign dirt scattered 
around the store, and had been told that Eddie was a 
thief. There was no time to be lost. The night of 
his discovery of the facts he faced Tom Benson in the 
office, after the others had gone home. 

“Well?” said the young man, sneeringly. 

“ Tve ‘ licked ’ all the kids you hired to fight me 
last week,” said Eddie, “ and the Lookaheads are go- 
ing to take care of the rest. I’ve swept up the dirt you 
scattered behind the boxes in this store, and Tve kept 
track of the things which left the shelves so’s you could 
tell your uncle some one stole them. Now, before I 
go to the police with all this, I want to know when 
you’re going to stop your dirty work against me.” 

“ I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said 
Tom Benson, savagely; “ and I want you to get right 
out of this office, or I’ll throw you out.” 

“ Do you want me to talk to your uncle about it 
to-morrow, and have him hear my side?” said Ed- 
die. “If you don’t, just answer my question. When 
is this lying and stealing and fighting going to stop ? ” 

“ When you are out of this place for good,” replied 
Tom, eating his own words easily; for he did not 
wish the affair brought before his uncle, whose honest 
inquiry would surely discover the facts. 

“ You couldn’t drive me out before,” Eddie said 
tauntingly, “ so now you are going to make me out 
a thief and everything that’s bad. Do you think I’ll 
go, with your lies behind me? Not on your life, Tom 
Benson ! I’ve got friends, and I’ve got as good a char- 
acter as you have.” 

“You, the pauper!” sneered the other. 


144 ^oy Who Looked Ahead 

‘'And what are you? You think no one knows 
where you spend your holidays and what you do with 
your money. You are trying to tell your uncle lies 
about me to get me out of here, and all I have to do 
is to tell him the truth about you; and you would 
be ‘ fired ^ as far as China. Now, who’s got the bet- 
ter chance to stay here another year? I don’t care 
to stay, but I’m going to stay; and the day that I 
leave, you leave, smarty gambler!” 

Tom Benson sat like a statue, numb and terrified, 
before this denunciation. He was like a half-dead 
soldier in charge of a battery, who sees his guns spiked 
without being able to lift a hand in defence. 

Eddie left him with the last threat, because he did 
not care to talk with him more, and he feared that 
Benson in his rage might add another fight to the 
combats of the past fortnight. He was himself as- 
tonished at the effect of his charges on the man. He 
turned pale as a corpse, and his eyes shot fire at 
Eddie, but he could not utter a word. He knew when 
he was beaten, but he knew also that a very differ- 
ent scheme would be required to overcome this steady- 
nerved boy. 

Later Eddie decided to leave the store and find 
another position, although he could not very well 
leave while under a cloud with Mr. Hurley. Then he 
felt a great pity for the man who had been kind to 
him, and who would no doubt be deceived to the end 
by his wily and dissipated nephew. It was a matter 
for Father Fleming to decide, and he laid the details 
before him at their next meeting. The priest enjoyed 
the boy’s way of discussing and settling the grave 
problems of boy life. 

“ How did you find out all this ? ” 

“ Just by going around and keeping my eyes open,” 
Eddie answered. “ When these chaps want to go 
bad, they start a club like ours and call it by a nice 


145 


The Struggle Begins 

name. They think everybody is fooled; but when a 
crowd gets going to a certain house night and day, 
and the blinds are closed, and they get drunk now and 
then, people know it's not a liter’y club.” 

“ Pronounce it literary,” said Father Fleming, — 
“no, I should say not. What's Benson's club?” 

“ The Shelley Literary Association, and they have 
a bust of a great man just inside the door,” and Eddie 
had to laugh. “ One night I saw a silk hat on the bust, 
tipped over the left eye. That's what they think of 
Shelley, whoever he was.” 

“ Card gambling, I suppose? ” 

“ In the club, yes. But Tom Benson plays the pon- 
ies, and drops more money than he makes; for he’s 
not a winner.” 

“ Where does he get the money? ” 

“ That's the question. Father.” 

“So you think of leaving Hurley's?” 

“ Well, if you think it best. Father.” 

“ What do you think of it yourself? ” 

“ It isn't worth while fighting Tom Benson, be- 
cause he’ll do any mean thing against me. I should 
go. Then I get thinking of Mr. Hurley; he was very 
kind, you know, to the ‘ pauper,' and I don't feel like 
leaving him alone with Tom. But of course it’s none 
of my business.” 

“ Isn’t he able to take care of himself ? ” 

“ He is, and yet Tom is fooling him about me, 
and perhaps about other things. If I stayed Mr. 
Hurley would have to know that I am innocent. Then 
who knows when or how the thing would break out 
again ? ” 

“Quite right,” said Father Fleming; “and yet you 
must stay in the store, either to save or to down Tom 
Benson. If you can save him, so much the better; 
if you can not, then you must save Mr. Hurley from 
him. You’re not called on to do so much, but it 


146 The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

seems to me that evil can be hindered by keeping 
on as usual 

It’s just the way I looked at it,” said Eddie, but 
at the same time Mr. Hurley might thank me to clear 
out, and Tom might land me in jail.” 

“ Well, you have bail enough ready, from Mr. Mc- 
Ginnis and me.” 

Then I’ll stay and do my best.” 

And I’ll speak a private word to Tom Benson, 
just to let him know that we are watching his career 
and looking for his literary productions. Now, then, 
what have we got to look ahead for at the next meet- 
ing of the club? ” 

Eddie was surprised at the suddenness with which the 
priest dismissed the Benson subject, because usually 
he went over the same ground many times to guard 
against error ; but he did not seem to attach much im- 
portance to Tom Benson and his behavior, particularly 
when the Lookaheads came up as topic. 

The next thing to look ahead for,” said Eddie, 

is the career of the right honorable Vincent Radley, 
after he gets his artificial foot. He has not said any- 
thing about it, because he is not thinking of it. But I 
think we should take it up, so as to encourage him, and 
set him to thinking.” 

Until he talks about it himself, there will hardly 
be any need for us to talk about it. He is very 
stubborn, you know.” 

“ Not the present Vin,” said Eddie. This is a 
new one. All the bad in him was in that foot which the 
train cut off. The new Vin deserves the best job that 
we can find for him.” 

“ I see you have already been thinking about it,” 
said Father Fleming. 

And I have an idea, but I’m almost ashamed to 
tell it: the same place for the new boy — secretary 
to Mr. Willard.” 


One Way to Pay Debts 147 

“ A dream/’ said the priest, shaking his head, and 
impossible.” 

“ Some dreams come true. We can wait and we 
can try. I have a plan, and Fm going to try it, just 
for fun. Vin dreams of that position. I heard him 
in his sleep. It would almost make up for his lost 
foot to get the old job back. Will you help. Father? ” 

“ As the director of the club, I can not refuse.” 

Eddie went home from the momentous interview 
with a light heart. He could see so far ahead, and 
think of so much happiness, that the world seemed very 
pleasant in spite of the schemes and the sins of Tom 
Benson. 


CHAPTER XXIV 

ONE WAY TO PAY DEBTS 

H arold came home one day from the bank 
and proceeded to try the effect of a new 
tie, of a pale heliotrope color, which had 
just come out. Vin watched him trying it on, and 
taking various poses before the glass in order to get 
the full effect of the tie as it might appear to the 
eyes of admirers. 

What do you think of it ? ” said he with pride. 
“ I was just thinking,” Vin replied from his easy- 
chair, where he heard part of the question, “ that 
we should do some thinking for Eddie, and not leave 
him to do all for us.” 

‘‘ Quite right ! But this tie now ? ” 

Bother the tie ! Has it occurred to you that we 
have accepted all Ed’s favors without doing more 
than thanking him ? ” 

It has, so I bought him two ties like my own ; and 
I mean to have him share in everything I get for my- 
self after this.” 


148 The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

That’s easy. But now we must do a little more,” 
persisted Vin. ‘‘We must bother that Tom Benson 
some. He must make life awful for the boy every 
day; and we should do a little, in a nice, kind way, 
to make life occasionally awful for him.” 

“ Right you are, my honey boy ! Say what.” 

“ To-night, in the parlor, we must entertain Mr. 
McGinnis for two hours or longer, if necessary. Ed- 
die or mother must get him here quick.” 

Harold patted his chum on the head and danced 
about in glee. 

“ But say not a word to any one of the intention,” 
he cautioned Vin. 

“ Not a word. You do the engineering, and we’ll 
all make it pleasant for the pale-eyed young man.” 

So Vincent wrote a special note to the genial gard- 
ener, asking him to take tea with the family that eve- 
ning, and to lighten the long hours for a poor invalid 
with stories from his own life. McGinnis replied 
promptly that nothing would please him better; and 
that he would have called before, only his presence 
might remind the patient too keenly of his misfor- 
tune; “for I am like an undertaker,” wrote the de- 
tective, “ who can not visit even his sick friends for 
fear of shock to them and misinterpretation from the 
world.” 

“ My, but that’s a word ! ” said Vincent, as he read 
the note to his mother. “ Is Mr. McGinnis an edu- 
cated man ? ” 

“ Well, that’s the letter of a man with education,” 
said Mrs. Radley ; “ and he has given us so many 
surprises that no one need be shocked if he is a 
D. D. from a university. He is a gardener, a detec- 
tive, and a bank director, though he looks like a harm- 
less creature without a cent.” 

“Is he old?” said Vincent. 

“ I put him down at forty, but Father Fleming 


One Way to Pay Debts 


149 


tells me he is not more than thirty-six, though he has 
seen enough of the world to be seventy. One thing 
We can never forget — his service to you. So I am 
glad you have invited him specially; and you must 
keep on inviting him, since we have no other way 
to show our regard.” 

Now, if the detective had surprised the boys in 
all their dealings with him, he surprised them again 
that evening. Always laughing, with a jolly round 
face, seemingly as innocent as a child or a rustic, mak- 
ing light of everything, he came to tea as serious, 
decorous and quiet as an alderman. Miss Sullivan 
had never seen him before, and had formed her ideas 
of his appearance from the chatter of the boys. She 
was rather taken aback at the sight of a gentleman 
in correct evening dress, of easy and proper manner, 
evidently as much at home in the drawing-room as 
in the garden of the Sand Bar or the offices of bankers 
and lawyers. Eddie was left in blank amazement 
at the change, until he recalled that Mr. McGinnis in 
his time had been compelled to play many parts, — that 
he had been a sailor, a tramp, an old man, a stevedore, 
an engineer, a farmer, and whatever was necessary 
to the work in hand ; and that he had to play his part 
perfectly, because life and other important things so 
often depended on his success. 

The three lads had a hard time to keep straight faces 
on the occasion. Miss Sullivan became all at once in- 
terested in the visitor; and the party forgot, as they 
sat in the parlor after tea, that this night belonged 
by prescription to the unamiable and cruel Mr. Ben- 
son. As he entered and greeted the assembly, his 
face looked like wood, hardened a trifle more at sight 
of Eddie, and still more at the cool greeting of the de- 
tective. Eddie would have left the room immediately, 
but he was pocketed between his chums, who refused 
their consent. Mrs. Radley would in time have ar- 


150 The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

ranged their exit in her tactful way, but all the others 
blocked her efforts. When Mr. McGinnis made a 
move, the younger lady demanded another story. The 
three boys sat in such a fashion that their eyes could 
be directed like the guns of a battery on the nervous 
and angry enemy. They asked especially for stories 
dealing with the capture of gamblers, and looked as 
innocent as babies while they were telling. Like every 
suitor, Tom Benson hoped to the last for the departure 
of the visitor and the members of the household; and 
the event would have happened decently but for the 
interference of Harold. 

“ Now that Mr. McGinnis has entertained us with 
stories of real life,” said he to his sister, ‘‘ it’s only 
fair that you should return the favor by singing.” 

And Miss Sullivan sang very prettily, and the boys 
sang, and the hostess invited Mr. Benson to sing — an 
invitation which the boys blocked by keeping up their 
own ditties; and thus the evening passed pleasantly 
to all but Mr. Benson, who learned for the first time 
that the pauper had the love and esteem and guardian- 
ship of these people, and that to injure him meant 
to offend the lady of his fancy and the terrible de- 
tective. He took his punishment with good grace, 
so far as one could see; but in his heart he spoke 
fearful imprecations against the lame boy, who had 
already threatened him, and now scorned him. 

Mrs. Radley and her niece could not understand the 
loud laughter from the common room that night when 
the boys were going to bed. Eddie alone objected to 
the sweating process inflicted on his enemy. 

“We have no business to interfere with a fellow 
courting,” he said. 

“ ’T wasn’t we: ’twas Mr. McGinnis,” Vincent 
mimicked. 

“ Then I’ll have to stand Tom Benson the rest 
of the week, and he can get even with me easily.” 


The False Foot 


15 1 


** Don^t worry, my boy ; for, now that he sees 
where you stand with the charming Miss Sullivan, 
he will be slow to do anything against you.” 

Which was perfectly true, and all next day Eddie 
could see and feel the restraint which Tom Benson 
put upon himself in order to avoid offending a favorite 
of the lady for whom his corrupt heart often sighed. 
Eddie thought it a good sign that so disagreeable a 
man had an affection for his uncle and other persons ; 
but he would have preferred a man like Mr. McGin- 
nis as a husband for a woman whom he respected. 
However, Tom Benson was not yet lost, and, with 
the grace of God, might turn out a decent fellow in 
the end. 


CHAPTER XXV 

i 

THE FALSE FOOT 

HE winter passed and the spring returned, — 



a fact well known to Cataract Street by the 


roar of the Falls night and day. The snows 


of the Adirondacks melted and sent a tremendous vol- 
ume of water over the precipice. All the old landmarks 
had gone, — the Sand Bar above and the Big Rock 
below. For weeks the rapids would be visible between 
the dam and the Falls, — one mass of swirling, racing 
waters. A mist fell into the street when the east 
wind came, — the mist of the cataract. 

Vincent watched it for hours from the windows of 
his room. It was always the same. In summer only 
a thread of water streamed through the main chan- 
nel; in the wet seasons it was like Niagara. So it 
had been for ages. Only men change — foolish men, 
— and he looked at the place where his foot should 
have been. He had lost it playing the fool. Oh, 


152 The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

how bitter his heart grew at the loss and the folly! 
But in the long days at the hospital, when his temper 
had changed so wonderfully, he had resolved never 
to speak of his affliction in grief, but always with 
good humor. His grief and bitterness he kept to 
himself from that moment, offering it to God as a 
little penance for his sins. But his sensitive nature 
felt the weakness and the humiliation. He would 
never again be like other men. And down he went 
into the bluest depths of sadness, which he told his 
mother was simple weariness and had to be slept 
off. One can not deceive a loving mother, and she was 
not deceived; but she made no sign and did not at- 
tempt to comfort him. 

There came that day when the doctor thought the 
artificial foot could be used. Mrs. Radley dreaded 
the hour, which was bound to renew the anguish 
of the first terrible days in the hospital. Her boy 
shrank from allusions to his accident, except with 
Father Fleming: he never spoke of the artificial foot 
that must come. She left the whole matter to Eddie 
and Harold, to whom the artificial foot was an af- 
fair of intense interest. They did not understand Vin- 
cent’s feelings at all ; but the poor woman thought that 
the boys, in their rough way, would arrange the affair 
much better than she could. Long confinement had 
affected the health of the growing boy. It was neces- 
sary, the doctor said, that he should begin walking 
again as soon as possible, and he gave Mrs. Radley 
a description of the artificial foot which had to be 
bought and which Vincent must learn to use. Harold 
and Eddie accompanied her to the shop where such 
things are fashioned, and their information enabled 
the man in charge to make a good guess at what was 
wanted. He would prepare the foot and go to the 
house himself to attach it, and to show the patient 
how it was to be worn. 


The False Foot 


153 

The boys felt that they had great news for Vin- 
cent after these matters had been settled. 

What do you think?” they said in unison, with 
their fingers in the air, in imitation of an important 
personage. “ Something is going to happen to you, — 
something expensive, beautiful, wonderful. What do 
you think ? ” 

“ I can’t think with two ducks wig-wagging at 
me.” 

“ You are to have your false foot in three days.” 

‘‘ Which means that you are to be on your feet 
again,” said Harold, the wit. He laughed so loud 
at his own sparkle that only Eddie noticed the cripple 
choking back the sobs and tears which rose in him, 
yet Eddie did not quite understand. 

“We saw the model of it, we chose the shape and 
size,” said he eagerly. “ It is a wonderful thing how 
they make false foots.” 

“ False foots ! ” Harold screamed, so that Vincent 
had to laugh. 

“Of course it will take some time for you to learn 
to use it.” 

“ I guess you’ll feel as if you were carrying five 
pounds of iron at the end of the leg; but the man 
said one gets so used to it that when it is taken off 
at night one feels its absence just like a real feet.” 

“ A real feet ! ” Eddie cried in turn. 

“One on me; but really, Vin, it’s great. You’ll 
have to get two socks just the same as before, and 
two shoes, but you won’t have to fuss with the false 
one.” 

“ And you must be careful,” said Eddie, “ never to 
make a kick at anything with that foot.” 

They thought they were making it pleasant for the 
unfortunate boy, who sat grinning at their rude wit, 
growing whiter and whiter with wild anguish and ris- 
ing anger against everything; but he held himself in 


154 


The Boy Who Looked Ahead 


until they turned away to their own rooms and bed. 
He sat listening to Harold’s preparations, which in- 
cluded the careful putting away of ties and jewelry; 
and also to Eddie’s swift disposal of his simple gar- 
ments, for which he cared little. And then Vincent 
wept bitterly, out of a heart so full of long sadness 
that his tears came in a flood. Eddie heard him and 
knew not what to do, but he understood. It was 
easy for them, with all their limbs, to chatter about 
false feet; but to one who lacked a foot, such chatter 
was simply awful. There was nothing to be done 
but let him cry his grief out and get his comfort direct 
from God. So Eddie waited a long time, and then 
pretended to wake with a start, and cried out indig- 
nantly : 

“ Aren’t you in bed yet? ” 

So that gave him a chance to jump up and to help 
his chum to his own room, where he sat chatting an- 
other half hour, until, somewhat cheered, the poor 
lad began to waver in his speech and then dropped off 
into sleep. 

Eddie sat for another minute looking at the pale, sad, 
beautiful face, with its crown of bright hair, its stub- 
born mouth and obstinate nose; and he thought how 
little we know of one another, how easy it is to hurt 
the unhappy, and how much men suffer without speak- 
ing of it. This boy would suffer like this forever; 
and many would fling his misfortune in his face with 
joy because it hurt, just as they flung his poverty 
at himself. Well, Vincent had one sure friend who 
would never willingly in word or deed add to his afflic- 
tion. 

The ordeal of fitting the artificial foot came and 
went. The maker and the three boys settled the affair 
among themselves; and the professional made it so 
interesting by his own interest in securing success, 


The False Foot 155 

that the sufferer almost forgot his woe. Eddie wisely 
made a mystery out of it. 

‘‘ No telling about this,’’ said he, “ until you can 
manage it all right. Then you’ll march out with 
Harold’s prettiest cane between your fingers, and give 
the world a surprise. We’ll practise you.” 

“ You will have to carry a cane,” the maker said, 

because for some time there will be a little uncer- 
tainty in your use of the foot, and you might easily 
make a misstep and injure the mechanism.” 

What a delight to his mother and cousin when he 
began to walk about the house naturally, and the crutch 
was laid aside! At first he went out at nights with 
the boys and walked up and down the street slowly. 
Such joy he had from that freedom of movement! 
He forgot to pity himself, seeing that he would soon 
be able to control the artificial foot as well as ever 
he did the natural one. Finally the hour came when 
he could depend on his skill sufficiently to walk any- 
where. 

‘‘Where shall we go first?” said he. 

“To the Sand Bar,” replied Eddie. 

“ Or to visit Mr. McGinnis,” suggested Harold. 

“Both in time, of course,” said Vincent; “but 
to-day the first long walk must be to one place only. 
Come along.” 

They wondered, but the place he had chosen was 
the church, where he knelt to thank God for his escape 
and his mother’s from sorrow and death. Father 
Fleming had a beautiful church, and the great con- 
cave wall of the sanctuary was alive with glorious 
paintings showing forth the glory of the Risen Christ. 
Vincent studied them long while he prayed, and he 
whispered to his companions as they rose to go : 

“ I have been dead and I am alive again.” 


The Boy Who Looked Ahead 


156 


CHAPTER XXVI 

SOME CHANGES 

W HATEVER Father Fleming said to Tom 
Benson, the change in his relations toward 
Eddie was marked. There were no more 
reproaches, no sneers, no fiery looks; only a stiff, cold 
manner, with which no one could find fault. Tom 
now knew that he could not persecute a boy with such 
friends as stood behind Eddie Travers. And the priest 
had also spoken to Mr. Hurley with such meaning that 
the proprietor of the grocery store took the lad again 
into his favor, and began to talk office promotion to 
him. 

“ Do you think you could make good in the office? ” 
asked Mr. Hurley. “ Do you know anything about 
bookkeeping and penmanship and commercial arith- 
nietic? 

All that the books can teach,” said Eddie ; “ but 
of course that’s a different thing from the real work 
at the desk.” 

‘‘All that the books can teach,” Mr. Hurley re- 
peated. “ And where did you learn all that the books 
can teach? ” 

“ At home and in school, with a lift from Father 
Fleming now and then.” 

“ He told me something about that, and said you 
had done very well. But now let me test you. Write 
a letter ordering a lot of goods, and ask the shippers 
to be quicker than the last time. They were mighty 
slow with those canned goods, you know.” 

In a few minutes Eddie placed the letter in the 
hands of the old gentleman, who read it with pleasure 
and astonishment. He could not have done half so 
well himself with such a letter. The writing looked 


Some Changes 


157 


as if it had been taken straight from the copy-book, 
only better; for it had life and character in it. The 
form of the letter was good, the language correct, and 
the calculations on prices accurate. 

You must have practised a great deal to learn 
this,'’ said Mr. Hurley. 

Ever since I got the chance,” Eddie replied. 

‘‘Now about the bookkeeping? How long have 
you practised that ? ” 

“ Ever since I came here, sir. I knew the chance 
would come some day to get into the office and learn 
the inside of the business, so I got ready away ahead.” 

“ You are a boy like those I knew fifty years ago,” 
and Mr. Hurley patted his shoulder. “ They always 
thought about getting ready for what was ahead of 
them. Nowadays it seems to be shows and dances 
and parties and baseball with the young people, and 
never mind what’s ahead of you till you come to it.” 

“ That’s why Father Fleming started the Lookahead 
Club, sir, — to teach the boys how to get ready for 
what’s ahead.” 

“Well, he had a good recruit in you, Eddie; and 
I’m glad of it. You will go into the office Monday, 
and ril get another boy for the outside work.” 

“ Thank you, sir ! ” said Eddie, with flushed cheek 
and shining eyes, as he went about his work again, 
so happy that he could hardly speak or even think. 
He was done with the Kindergarten, as he called the 
basket and the little wagon ; and done with the sweep- 
ing and dusting and packing and delivering goods. 

Mr. Hurley, looking at him over his spectacles, 
suddenly noticed that Eddie was no longer a boy but 
a young man, in size, in experience, and in thoughtful- 
ness. He had been in the store two years, and was 
now in his seventeenth year. Never had there been 
in his employ a boy more patient, even-tempered, indus- 
trious or intelligent. He had studied every possible 


158 The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

detail of the business. In some matters he knew more 
about it than Mr. Hurley himself. He was now tall, 
well built, and manlike in his ways, looking out at the 
world from a pale face, with melancholy dark eyes 
and sensitive mouth, which expressed only part of his 
nature. He was a cheerful, fun-loving boy ; but in his 
quiet moments the tragedy of his life — the loss of his 
parents and relatives, and his career in orphan asylums 
— took first place in his mind, and gave him an ex- 
pression of sadness. He was not sad, however, but 
happy and hopeful. He had won his promotion; and 
even the fact that he had to work side by side with 
Tom Benson did not dash his joy. He could stand 
greater hardship than that; and, anyway. Father Flem- 
ing had muzzled the vicious creature. 

Eddie did not venture to tell the household of his 
good fortune, simply because they would have made 
such a noise over it. Harold and Vincent would have 
insisted on dressing him up in the latest style, with 
a fine tie, a pin stuck in it, and other “ dandified non- 
sense,’^ which did not suit a grocery-store. Tom Ben- 
son nodded to him as he entered the office for the 
first time, and gave him his share in the keeping of 
the books, without any further explanation than was 
required for the particular work. Tom knew what 
he had to contend with. In a month Eddie Travers 
would know every book demanded by the business, and 
would have the scheme at his finger ends. Tom had 
provided against that. He had formed a new scheme, 
and could keep the old and the real one for himself. 
Eddie would never get at the secrets of the firm and 
its business. What did it matter to Eddie, so long 
as he was happy? 

But now strange things began to happen at home. 
The sweet days of June were half gone; the Sand Bar 
was in perfect order for the swimming season; the 
Lookaheads had begun to knock fire from their heels 


Some Changes 159 

because school was ending, when the announcement of 
a marriage startled the boys and made the common 
room buzz with astonished conversation. Mrs. Rad- 
ley made it in her quiet, sweet way, just saying that 
they might have noticed the visits of Mr. McGinnis to 
the house; that his attentions were not entirely di- 
rected to Vincent, but had included Miss Sullivan, 
and that a few months of acquaintance had assured 
the lady and the detective of their mutual regard and 
love. They were going to be married. 

Such a storm as arose on the spot! The boys 
congratulated Harold in mock style ; then they whistled 
the Wedding March ’’ and led him up an imaginary 
aisle to an imaginary altar. And the wedding was to 
take place in two weeks or so; then the bridal pair 
were to go to Europe on a wedding tour. After re- 
turning home, Mr. and Mrs. McGinnis would live at 
the house near the Sand Bar. 

Before the rejoicings were over, Eddie saw some 
things that were not mentioned in the program. What 
a time he would have with Tom Benson when the news 
of the engagement went abroad! The disappointed 
man would lay all the blame on him. Then the little 
home would lose Miss Sullivan, and the joy of the 
common room would be diminished. The home air 
had not revived the strength of Vincent as quickly 
as the doctor wished, and his mother had begun to 
talk of going to the mountains. In that case Eddie 
would be quite alone. Of course he would have Father 
Fleming at hand to cheer and console him by his mere 
presence. Yet he could not help thinking how change- 
able life is, and how hard it is to hold happiness for 
a long time. He said as much to Father Fleming 
one day. 

“ But you will get used to it,” said the priest ; ‘‘ in 
fact, you are used to it; for what has your life been 
but change? You are just beginning to notice it, — 


i6o The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

that’s all. All you have to do is to make the most 
of what’s nearest, and leave to God the joy that’s lost 
and the joy that’s to come. We get on somehow. 
Which reminds me that I’m feeling none too well 
myself, and that I’ve made all my plans for six months 
in Europe.” 

I’ll be left alone, sure enough,” said Eddie. 


CHAPTER XXVII 

THE FIRST TRICK 

E ddie did not see all the consequences of the 
changes taking place at home, and did not un- 
derstand what being alone would mean to him 
He consoled himself by thinking of everybody’s re- 
turn, and of the joys of the coming winter, when Mr. 
McGinnis would be keeping open house at the Sand 
Bar, and the common room would be gay again. Yet 
the changes, in spite of the excitement and fun, proved 
rather sad, just because they were changes. 

The wedding was quiet but gay; and, to Eddie’s 
delight, his detective friend looked the part he was 
playing, — that is, he looked like the director of a bank 
getting married to a fine girl, in the most fashionable 
way. 

After the wedding festivities were over and the 
bridal pair had gone to Europe, then the packing be- 
gan for Vin’s stay in the mountains. The lads made 
fun over it, but their hearts were very heavy in say- 
ing good-bye. When Eddie locked the last door of 
the vacant house, something clicked in his throat like 
the click of the key turning in the lock. He was again 
without a home. And he felt himself also without 
a friend when, a few days later, he escorted Father 


The First Trick 


i6i 


Fleming to the train which took him to New York 
and the European steamer. Harold and he turned to 
their boarding-house with the feeling of orphans. 
There was something on Harold’s mind, and he spoke 
of it as they sat together in their room that night 
before going to bed. 

‘'You’ve been an orphan all your life, Ed, haven’t 
you ? ” said he. 

The other nodded. 

“ Terrible feeling,” continued Harold. “ I never 
felt it before ; but, now that my sister belongs to some- 
body else, I seem to feel it for the first time.” 

“ But you have two homes now,” said Eddie, “ with 
your aunt and your brother-in-law. You have a claim 
in both places ; I have none.” 

“ Well, if I have I don’t intend to take it. Like 
you, I have learned something from change, and I have 
also learned to look ahead. I’m not going to stay 
in Fallville.” 

Eddie stared at him in astonishment and grief. 
“You, too?” he exclaimed. 

“ Me, too, honey boy ! From the day my sister an- 
nounced her marriage, I began to think it over. I’m 
going to New York. I have the bank training. I can 
get a good letter from the officials here. I’m going 
into the business like a man, and get the best place 
a man can win in the big city. There’s no chance 
here for a rise. Now don’t think you can persuade 
me to stay, for you can’t. I’m going as soon as I can 
leave decently.” 

“Where are you going?” said Eddie, with high 
scorn. “ You talk about looking ahead like me. Is 
that looking ahead, to go into a big city, without an 
acquaintance, to get work? Where will you go in 
New York? ” 

“ Oh, I can fix all that ! ” said Harold easily, picking 
a thread off his coat and placing it with great care on 


i62 The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

Eddie’s. Grocers don’t mind such little things ; ” 
and he grinned. ‘‘ Indeed, I may say that I have fixed 
all that.” 

“How, I’d like to know?” inquired Edward, as 
severe as a judge. 

“ This way,” said Harold. “ I know a very power- 
ful man in the great city who has only to say to this 
bank or that, ‘ Here is a man I want placed,’ and the 
said man is placed. I know another man who is very 
powerful with this powerful man. I shall say to the 
second man, ‘ Give me a letter to the first man.’ I 
get it, present it, get the place, and the job is done.” 

“ But who are these two powers ? ” Eddie said. 
“ England and Russia? Or Mr. Barnum and Mr. 
Forepaugh ? ” 

“ Greater than they, my boy, — greater than they,” 
said Harold grandly. “ Ah, see what it is to have and 
to keep such friends and acquaintances ! In my early 
youth I learned to know and to love them, and now 
it is my proud privilege to use them.” 

“ But who are they ? ” 

“ The Honorable James E. Sullivan and the no 
less honorable Edward Travers. Am I correct?” 

“ You are, and I am fooled,” said Eddie. “ You 
certainly are right, Mr. Harold Sullivan, though you 
have me surprised all round. But what will your 
sister say to this ? ” 

“ Whatever she feels like saying she must say in 
Europe. It will be too late to say it to me. She 
agrees with me in everything. Now I have fixed mat- 
ters. I am through with our bank, and I have a 
fine letter. Saturday is the Fourth, the nation’s birth- 
day. We shall go down to New York together on the 
boat Friday night, — excursion rates, — my expense. 
We shall celebrate the day in Central Park. We 
shall locate the head of all the Sullivans, call on him 
Sunday, get his letter on the strength of my letter, 


The First Trick 163 

your presence, and the Lookaheads; and you may re- 
turn home Sunday night by boat.’’ 

In vain Eddie offered a list of objections to the 
scheme. They came from his heart, not from his 
head; for he felt utterly cast down at the loss of his 
companion so soon after the closing of the home. 

So the two chums went down to the big city to- 
gether, carried out the program to the letter, and had 
the time of their lives with the handsome head of 
the Sullivan clan. He made much of them, drove them 
around the Park, agreed to place Harold that week, 
and wanted Eddie to take a place with himself in his 
own office. But he respected his wish to peg away 
at the grocery business; and requested him as a favor 
to let him know when he was ready to start business 
on his own account, as he felt sure he could help him ; 
and he was most anxious to assist the boys of Father 
Fleming’s club in every way possible. He would have 
kept them all night at his fine house (and Harold ac- 
cepted his invitation to remain until he found a home), 
but that Eddie had to take the boat up the river. So, 
thanking the kindly man, they went their way. 

Eddie wrung Harold’s hand swiftly and got aboard 
to make the loneliest journey of his young life. He 
prayed that night never to have such another so long as 
he lived. The little home where he had been so happy 
had vanished as in fairyland. He was utterly alone in 
the world, far from his friends. 

Eddie Travers was so depressed, so wrapped up in 
the thought of the absent, that he entered the office next 
morning like one in a dream. With a start he saw 
Tom Benson in his accustomed place, and for a mo- 
ment stood looking at him and thinking. What a 
chance Benson had to injure him, if he were of the 
same mind as last year! The ocean separated him 
from the detective and the priest. He had not a 
strong friend in the town. 


164 The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

‘‘ All your friends have left town/’ said Tom lightly, 
as if it were a pleasant matter. ‘‘ Why didn’t you go 
with them ? ” 

“ I didn’t have to,” was the short reply. 

It might have saved you some trouble,” Benson 
went on. “ The ‘ boss ’ spent two days going over 
the books while you were away. He found something 
wrong.” 

‘‘ Well, you can tell him how it came there. I’m not 
worrying.” 

“ Something wrong ! ” repeated Benson with great en- 
joyment, as if he were singing the phrase, which he kept 
up all day long, now to one tune and again to an- 
other, until, between the man’s hate and his own grief, 
Eddie felt that his head and his heart were breaking 
together. 


CHAPTER XXVIII 

A CONSTANT FRIEND 

I N the afternoon Mr. Hurley entered the office 
with a serious expression. His smile had van- 
ished. Eddie Travers now recalled that the smile 
had been absent for more than a week, and that he had 
wondered if the old gentleman were falling into any 
illness ; in the excitement of the wedding and the fam- 
ily break-up, he had forgotten the fact. Tom Benson 
looked at his uncle calmly, for he had nothing to fear ; 
and then he looked at his assistant, whom he had 
been nagging all day about this coming scene. But the 
lad was as indifferent as an honest boy should be. 

Mr. Hurley cleared his throat as he asked the 
attention of his bookkeepers. 

‘‘ There is an error in your books, Eddie,” said he 
kindly; ‘‘and it conceals a loss of fifty dollars to the 
firm. I don’t so much mind the error, because such 


Constant Friend 


165 

things will happen. It’s the fact that it looks as if it 
was done intentionally, in order to hide the theft of 
fifty dollars.” 

“ I examined my books,” Eddie replied, and could 
find nothing wrong. Mr. Benson said there was, but 
I could see no error.” 

Well, then, let us both look the books over to- 
gether,” said Mr. Hurley. 

He pointed out the account and showed how it had 
been covered up. The writing and the figures were 
certainly Eddie’s, as he had to acknowledge; but the 
transaction he could not recall. 

“ What have you to say to that ? ” Mr. Hurley 
asked. 

Nothing, because I can’t remember that business,” 
the boy replied. 

“ Well, I am willing to overlook it this time, with 
a warning that it must never happen again, but on 
the condition that you pay back the lost money.” 

“ As I didn’t take any money, and never intended to 
play the thief, I’m not going to return any,” said Ed- 
die, with spirit. “ I don’t see, either, how you can 
afford to overlook the matter. A thief is a thief and 
should be exposed.” 

And he looked into the sneering face of Benson, 
who was enjoying the scene. 

‘‘ I am willing to overlook it,” said Mr. Hurley, be- 
cause Father Fleming is your backer, and recommended 
you to me highly; also because temptation comes to 
any one, and any one may fall under it. But if one 
rises again, repairs the fault, and promises reform, 
it is only fair that he should have another chance.” 

“ Father Fleming has never backed or recommended a 
thief,” Eddie answered, in the same spirited way. ‘‘If 
I took this money, I am a thief, and not fit to be here, 
or to be backed by Father Fleming. If I stole the 
money and ‘ doctored ’ the books, it means that I in- 


i66 The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

tend to steal again. There is only one thing to do with 
such a thief : expose him, dismiss him, and put him in 
his proper place.” 

He spoke these strong words with his eyes fixed on 
Tom Benson, who still smiled and sneered, but at the 
same time became conscious that in this attitude of 
Eddie’s there was danger also for himself. So he 
spoke up loudly : 

** Take him at his word. Uncle Patrick, and let him 
go with the mark of the thief on him. That will end 
the trouble and the stealing.” 

But it won't end either the trouble or the stealing,” 
said Eddie. “ You won’t find the thief by sacking me, 
and you won’t stop the stealing. And the trouble 
won’t end either, because when I leave this store I 
must leave with the best letter of recommendation Mr. 
Hurley ever wrote. I earned it, and if he doesn’t give 
it the right people will make him.” 

‘‘ Tra-la-la ! what have we here? ” Tom said haught- 
ily. You talk of letters and character after steal- 
ing fifty dollars — ” 

“ Tut, tut, tut! ” Mr. Hurley interposed. No one 
has accused Eddie of stealing. How often, when I 
kept my own books, I made errors — took my own 
money from myself, and gave it back to myself, and the 
transaction never showed up in the books! What I 
meant all along was that fifty dollars seems to have 
gone and that Eddie fixed his books to account for it. 
It is only fair that the man who makes an error should 
pay for it; and, in returning the fifty dollars, Eddie 
is not to be considered a thief returning stolen goods, 
but simply a blundering bookkeeper who keeps his 
balance correct at his own expense.” 

Somehow, this did not tally with the first remarks 
of the old gentleman; but he would listen to no dis- 
cussion of the affair, assured Eddie of his confidence. 


L4 Constant Friend 


167 

and left the office. For the sake of delay, so as to 
get time for defence, Eddie accepted the arrangement, 
and took up his work again. Tom Benson did like- 
wise, but in a state of alarm. He had watched his 
uncle closely, and did not like the manner in which 
he had acted. There seemed to be something hidden 
in his words and actions. He had shown no feeling, 
and had backed down from his first charge without 
any shame. In fact, Tom got so uneasy that he de- 
termined to get rid of Eddie, somehow or other, within 
twenty-four hours. He grew calmer when he recalled 
that Eddie’s friends were all scattered so far as to 
be of no assistance. He could almost do as he pleased 
with him. 

And poor Eddie had the same feeling. He sat in 
his little room in the boarding-house after tea, the 
loneliest boy in the world. It seemed that he had 
been stripped in one month of everything he owned: 
his pretty home, his dear friends and chums, his de- 
fenders and protectors, the priest and the detective, 
his position and his reputation. It was like a ship- 
wreck. God had given him these precious gifts, and 
now He had permitted them to be taken away. Oh, 
what loneliness filled his heart! The Radleys would 
return, the genial McGinnis and the kind Eather Flem- 
ing would return, but his place and his character would 
not return, unless he could find a way to beat Tom 
Benson at his own game. But of what use was it 
to fight so malignant an enemy, — one who would keep 
up his villainy? Why not follow his friends into 
exile, — go to some distant town, and leave this fiend 
to his own devices ? 

In his despondency, Eddie considered the matter 
seriously, until he remembered that Father Fleming 
had advised him to stick to his post, and either defeat 
or save Tom Benson. He had accepted the advice. 


i68 The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

and indeed had given his word, and he would not 
go back on his word without the gravest reason. He 
could not forget Father Fleming, or overlook his light- 
est wish, for all the sadness that misfortune could heap 
on him. No, he must not fly: he must stay at his 
post; he must fight the thing to a finish. 

So he rose up and went out onto the street, into 
the soft summer night, to breathe the fresh air and 
to think the matter over. He wandered up to the 
vacant house, and tears streamed down his cheeks 
as he stood at the door and thought of the dear hearts 
so far away. He wandered down to Partridge’s lot, 
where the Lookaheads assembled for the regular chase 
of Wawayanda, and stood staring at the Falls, ghostly 
in the moonlight. They were quiet to-night, because 
little water poured over the precipice. He stood on 
the very spot from which the poet, Thomas Moore, 
had looked and taken his inspiration for his fine 
verses. All these years, and long centuries back, God 
had directed the flow of the wild waters, guiding them 
in their confines to the sea. And if He guided the 
river in its course, surely He guided poor souls like 
himself, without a friend at hand to help and save. 

He then wandered down to the beautiful church, 
which Father Fleming had made so splendid with orna- 
mentation. He knelt at the gate of the sanctuary, un- 
der the light of the ever-burning lamp, because the feet 
of the good priest had gone in and out of that gate 
so often on his errands of mercy. Every spot seemed 
to breathe his name: the altar, the pulpit, the bench, 
the confessional. Ah, what a friend to have loved 
and owned ! But he was gone, with all the others ; and 
the orphan and the pauper was alone, naked to his 
enemy, shadowed by disgrace ! Then he looked at the 
Tabernacle, and, instead of weeping from lonesomeness, 
he smiled with confidence and joy. Here was the 
Friend, not to be removed by death or anything; al- 


Temptation 


169 

ways close at hand, night and day; always strong and 
always loving! He joined his hands and raised them 
to the Tabernacle, and prayed fervently. 

CHAPTER XXIX 

TEMPTATION 

T he next day passed quietly in the office. Tom 
Benson was very thoughtful, and Mr. Hur- 
ley had not resumed his everlasting smile, al- 
though he talked pleasantly when necessary. Eddie 
felt that he was under a cloud, but he could not see 
his way out. Something was bound to happen sooner 
or later. He made up his mind that it must be later, 
and that he would hold on if possible until his friends 
returned. He knew that Tom Benson would not wait, 
but would force the issue. Eddie understood now the 
foolish fellow’s game. Tom had stolen, and was steal- 
ing, from his uncle; and his assistant in the office would 
very soon learn how he was concealing his thefts by 
tricky bookkeeping; so that assistant had to go in 
order that Tom might steal till the last minute. He 
saw that for this reason Father Fleming had requested 
him to remain, even if under a cloud. 

He found a note in his room that evening after sup- 
per. It was from Benson, and ran thus: 

** I want to see you and have a talk with you, and 
settle this trouble between us. I want to meet you 
where no one will see us and carry the news to the 
detectives whom Uncle Hurley has placed on your 
track. I suggest the head of the locks at the bridge 
about nine to-night. Come, if you wish to keep out 
of jail.” 

Eddie made his preparations and went, after en- 
closing Tom’s letter in an envelope, which bore the 


170 The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

address of Uncle Hurley. He did not post it : it would 
arrive at its destination at the proper time. The head 
of the locks was a group of houses, just beside the 
first of the locks which helped the Erie Canal to 
descend to the level of the Hudson. A bridge crossed 
the canal at this point, a road ran below it, then a 
small canal, and beyond that the Falls were in full 
view. It was a smoky night; a warm mist or haze 
filled the air, and clouds obscured the moon. The 
slow canal boats came and went, their colored lights 
showing, the mules and horses breathing hard, the 
chatter of voices with laughing and singing rising from 
the decks. Eddie smiled at the choice of a meeting- 
place. A thug could murder a man there, drag his 
body to the little canal and drop it in unnoticed. But 
he sat on the stone pier at the end of the bridge, per- 
fectly secure, and waited. 

Tom Benson came up so quietly that Eddie did not 
see him until he spoke from the darkness. 

Glad you came,’’ he said in a whisper, taking a 
seat beside him. I mean business, and I hope you 
do.” 

“ I do, if there’s profit in it,” answered Eddie. 

“ What did you think of the trouble to-day? The 
old man was stirred, wasnt he, — I mean for him ? 
Now he has the detectives at work.” 

“ For what? ” 

For you, of course.” 

‘‘ For you, I think,” said Eddie, with a chuckle. 

‘‘ I fancy you won’t laugh by this time to-morrow 
night behind the bars.” 

“ Bad day for you when I go behind the bars,” said 
Eddie, comfortably. “ You stole that money, you 
fixed those books, you imitated my handwriting, and 
how can you get away from it? ” 

” Well, here’s my proposition : go away at once and 
come back when your friends come back, if you want 


Temptation 171 

to. Take a hundred dollars from me and call the fight 
off.’’ 

‘‘Why should I?’’ 

“ Because it will pay you. You’ve got to go in the 
end. I have never really tried to get you out of that 
place till now. I am trying now, and you must go. 
It’s this way,” continued Benson, persuasively. “ You 
keep on, and it will be a continued fight until Uncle 
Hurley gets tired of our scrapping, and lets you go for 
the sake of peace. Doesn’t it stand to reason that he 
won’t sack his own flesh and blood for an outsider? ” 

“ That’s what I said long ago,” Eddie replied. 

“ It’s natural of course that he should stand by his 
own. I’ll have that business in time. He has prom- 
ised it to me. It’s mine now, in a way.” 

I think so too,” said Eddie, with more chuckling. 

Oh, well, it’s all one between the owner and the 
heir!” Tom went on, banteringly. '‘You have no 
business there, if I don’t want you. I wonder you 
didn’t get out long ago.” 

" I wanted to, but Father Fleming wouldn’t let me 
go. He said he thought that a good man like Mr. 
Hurley, easy and unsuspicious, might need me.” 

Tom Benson gave a jump at this stroke, and swore 
under his breath. 

“ What did he mean by that? ” 

“ He didn’t say,” replied Eddie. 

" Well, he’s gone. Now will you take the money 
and go too ? ” 

" And letter of recommendation also? ” 

“ Yes.” 

" How shall I drop out, if I agree for the letter and 
a hundred? ” 

" Like a gentleman. Tell Uncle Hurley to-morrow 
that we can not agree, take your letter, here’s your 
hundred, and go West.” 

He offered a roll of bills, but Eddie did not take 


172 The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

them, and there was silence for a moment. It was 
really a temptation to cut the knot in this simple 
fashion. The money would carry him a good ways to 
the golden West. He had stood two years of persecu- 
tion. Why should he stand any more of it? There 
was never to be peace with this dishonest Benson, who 
would gamble and steal and lie to the end. Was it 
his place to reform him or to expose him, or to rescue 
Mr. Hurley, when the old gentleman had sense enough 
to rescue himself, if he kept his eyes open? It would 
be so easy, so pleasant, to take that money, to take 
his letter next day, and to take a train away from all 
the fighting. And then he sat up straight and said 
things to himself. Father Fleming and Mr. McGinnis 
and Vincent would come home and learn that he had 
run away like a coward, and that Tom Benson had 
looted ” his uncle’s store and bank account, and 
brought ruin on all. How could he think of such hor- 
rors even for a lazy instant ! 

Tom pressed the money into his hand. 

“ I must think it over,” said Eddie, gently. 

‘‘No: you must settle it right here to-night; for 
the detectives will have you to-morrow,” Tom insisted. 

“All right!” said Eddie, jumping to his feet. 
“ Right here I refuse the money and the letter. I’ll 
stay and fight till Father Fleming comes home.” 

And with that Tom Benson struck out with his right, 
calling to some one as he rushed on Eddie, who dodged 
him easily and slipped into the darkness. But out of 
that darkness leaped two stalwart ruffians, who seized 
Eddie with powerful hands and clapped a cloth over his 
mouth. And the next minute the bridge seemed to be 
alive with men, who fell upon the kidnappers like an 
avalanche, beat them to helplessness, and flung them, 
Benson included, from the bridge into the canal amid 
riotous laughter. The three came to the surface to- 
gether and swam to the far side, where they crawled 


The Exposure 


m 


out and hurried away in silence. The Lookaheads ling- 
ered chatting over the adventure, while Eddie bound 
them to secrecy. 

It was all planned to drug me and stow me in a 
canal boat bound for Buffalo,” he explained. “ I only 
suspected it, of course; but you are now witnesses to 
his offer of a hundred, his call for the toughs, the fight 
and the finish. I have the proof of his inviting me 
here. He has the finish.” 

They travelled down the road together, uproarious 
over that funny climax to a real kidnapping enterprise. 

CHAPTER XXX 

THE EXPOSURE 

T he next day the two bookkeepers sat together 
quietly in the office as if nothing had hap- 
pened, setting forth their accounts and adding 
up columns of figures as usual. Still, Eddie had made 
up his mind as to what should be clone. It seemed 
scarcely possible that Benson should ever have con- 
ceived and carried out a scheme of kidnapping; yet 
Eddie reasoned that there would be constant danger 
from so desperate a man, and that in the end he might 
not stop at murder itself. 

Eddie waited a week or so before carrying out his 
plan. The three most concerned in it lived in some 
sort of dread; for never a smile or a pleasant word 
came from Uncle Hurley, Tom or Eddie. Each 
seemed to feel that the end was close at hand. 

It came on Saturday evening when the store closed. 
It was nine o’clock. Usually the bookkeepers went 
home earlier, but Mr. Hurley asked them to remain. 
A gentleman came in at nine and chatted a while with 
the proprietor. Shortly after, two young fellows en- 


174 The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

tered and asked for Eddie, who was waiting for the 
gentleman to go. He gave them seats in the office, and 
Benson just looked at them sourly. Presently Mr. 
Hurley came to the office with his visitor, and looked at 
Eddie’s visitors. 

“ I have something of importance to say, Mr. Hur- 
ley, and I have brought these friends of mine to hear 
me say it,” Eddie began; but I can wait if you wish.” 

No, Eddie : you may say it here and now, before 
this gentleman,” Mr. Hurley replied; and he seemed 
very much cast down. “ I think I know what it is.” 

‘‘ I am going to leave your store,” said Eddie, “ and 
I want you to know the reason why. Will you read 
this letter, please ? ” 

He handed him Tom’s note; and after the old gen- 
tleman had read it, Eddie told the story of the meet- 
ing at the head of the locks. 

These are my witnesses,” and he pointed to the 
young men. They heard the offer of a hundred dol- 
lars that was made, and saw me seized and gagged; 
they rescued me, and threw the kidnappers into the 
canal.” 

“ This gentleman also ? ” said Mr. Hurley. 

The stranger nodded. 

No one looked at Tom, who now turned on his stool 
and faced his accusers with a pale face. 

I can stand a fair fight,” observed Eddie; ‘‘ but I 
can’t stand this kidnapping business. It might mean 
murder in the end. Tom Benson has tried to make 
me out a thief. He tried before to show that I was 
a lazy, dirty, lying boy. Only for Father Fleming, 

I should have left here then. I must go now, because 
I don’t want to be jailed or murdered.” 

“ Quite right,” replied Mr. Hurley. “ I believe the 
testimony of your friends, so they may go; but I want 
you to stay a few minutes.” 

The boys departed ; and Mr. Hurley waved his hand 


The Exposure 175 

at the stranger, who looked at the pallid, stricken Ben- 
son, and then began to talk easily and gently. 

“ You will understand, Mr. Benson, what I am go- 
ing to say when I tell you that Mr. McGinnis handed 
over your case to me before he set out on his wedding 
tour. I have been looking after you ever since.” 

You will understand still better,” said Mr. Hurley, 
with his eyes on the floor, for he could not look at his 
own kin in such terrible distress, when I tell you 
that both Mr. McGinnis and Father Fleming warned 
me of your conduct before they left, and gave me 
the proofs of your wild and wicked life.” 

Oh, well, then,” said Tom, with a forced laugh, 
‘‘ if that’s the case, we needn’t waste our time talking 
about it ! Fll go.” 

He threw on his coat and took his hat, but the de- 
tective quickly showed him some handcuffs and pointed 
to the stool. Tom sat down, trembling with excite- 
ment and apprehension. 

We have all the proofs of your system of book- 
keeping,” said the detective, “ and some idea of how 
much you stole from the firm. It will save time if you 
write out a confession, telling when you began and 
how much you took and where it went. When you 
sign it, perhaps you may go. If you do, it must be as 
far West as possible.” 

‘‘If you know, what’s the use of a confession?” 
said Tom, with his accustomed impudence. 

“ It may save you from these little ornaments,” — 
and the detective showed the handcuffs. 

“ Oh, I see ! All right ! ” And he seated himself 
on his chair, took a pen and wrote for ten minutes 
or more. Then he wheeled about and read in a falter- 
ing voice what he had just written. 

Meanwhile his uncle, with eyes on the ground, sat 
sweating, wiping his brow and face at times in great 
anguish of mind. This was his dear sister’s son who 


176 


The Boy Who Looked Ahead 


wrote himself down a liar, a thief, a gambler, a forger, 
and a libertine. The poor old man could see his sister 
on her wedding day, simple and lovely and virtuous; 
and it seemed to be her voice which read this appalling- 
confession. Tom had begun to steal from the mo- 
ment he arrived in the store as a boy of fifteen; he had 
begun to gamble at the same time; he had taken all 
the money he could; he had spent it entirely in evil 
ways; he had hoped to pay it back, but never won 
enough on gambling. 

“ You have left out a few things,’’ said the detec- 
tive. Put in your various attempts on the char- 
acter and freedom of Edward Travers.” 

Tom laughed again, but obeyed. When the detective 
was satisfied, the wretch signed his name at the bottom 
very elegantly, and watched while the others appended 
their names as witnesses. The detective folded the 
confession and placed it in his pocket. Then he looked 
at Mr. Hurley, who simply nodded, for he could not 
speak. 

‘‘ You are free now to take an early train out of 
this town,” said the detective; ‘‘but if you are found 
here at any time you will run the risk of arrest. Take 
my advice, and get as far as you can before day- 
light.” 

He handed Tom an envelope; and, with a cheery 
Good-night ! ” the young man left the office and the 
store, where, it may be added, he was never seen again. 
No one spoke for a while, until Mr. Hurley wiped the 
last sweat from his face and looked up with a faint 
smile. He held out his hand to Eddie and took his in 
a fervent clasp. 

“ I shall never forget it, Eddie,” said he, in such 
a queer voice that the boy felt like crying. “You 
stood by me, you saved me from something truly 
awful. That unfortunate boy was going the way of 


The Exposure 


177 


murder. You suffered, and I will pay you back/’ 
How did you ever get to know, Mr. Hurley ? 

** I was fooled, because he was my own,” said the 
old man. “ But Father Fleming opened my eyes be- 
fore he left. He came with McGinnis, and they told 
me the life that Tom Benson was leading, all he had 
done to you, all he planned to do. They gave me all 
the evidence needful, and I did the rest myself, with 
the help of this gentleman. They told me that Tom 
would try to destroy you, that you knew it, and that 
you stayed in order to save me from him, my own 
blood. I will never forget it; but it is terrible when 
your own robs you and the stranger helps you.” 

Tom kept a double system of bookkeeping,” said 
the detective, seeing that Eddie wanted some explana- 
tion; and in that way hid his tricks. He was afraid 
you would find it out, and so he wanted to get rid 
of you.” 

‘‘ He would have done it only that Mr. McGinnis 
spoke and Father Fleming spoke,” said Mr. Hurley. 

You have two good friends in them, my boy; and 
you’re worth all their praise and more. Run away 
now, and be ready to take full charge here Monday. 
I’ll make up for all you suffered from Tom Benson.” 

So Eddie went home utterly astonished; and he 
went with his witnesses for guards, because no one 
could tell what desperate Tom might do. Oh, how it 
pleased him to learn that he had not been left so utterly 
alone as he had thought! Father Fleming had seen 
to his welfare, and Mr. McGinnis had nailed it safely, 
by their revelations of Tom’s misconduct and evil in- 
tentions. Far across the ocean in Europe, they were 
as active in Fallville this happy night as if they had 
been really present, and their love and care for him 
disdained distance and schemes and crimes. Some- 
where poor Tom Benson was tramping in the darkness. 


178 The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

an outcast, disgraced, eaten by his sins and his rage. 

God pity and help him ! ” was the last prayer of Ed- 
die as he fell into happy sleep. 

CHAPTER XXXI 

HAPPY HOURS 

P OOR Mr. Hurley, it seemed as if he would never 
smile again after the departure of Tom Ben- 
son. He got old suddenly. 

‘‘ IBs not the money, he explained to Eddie, even 
if it was twice as much; but the ungratefulness of that 
boy. I loved him, I made him my own, I promised 
him this business; I dreamed of the day when he 
would be in charge, making it go as I never could. 
I heaped him with favors ; and all the time he was rob- 
bing me, deceiving me, living the life of a criminal. 
His confession has made him a criminal. I actually 
feel now like a decrepit old man.’’ 

“ And no wonder,” rejoined Eddie, in sympathy. 
‘‘ But you must get over it as quickly as you can. 
He was not worth your attention, and it is no good to 
worry over him. Take our motto : ‘ Look ahead.’ 

Don’t look back. The night Tom tried to kidnap me I 
had been looking back, and I was as blue as bluing. 
Yet, only a week later, all my troubles were over, and 
I found that my friends were as near me as if they 
were really at home.” 

Quite right, my son ! Looking back will never 
straighten a wry neck. It must be ‘ Look ahead ’ with 
me, if I’m to keep from going crazy.” 

“ You are all alone in the house now, aren’t you? ” 
said Eddie. . 

“ I am.” And he looked at the lad with the first 
smile of the month. 


Happy Hours 


179 


“ I was going to say, if you felt lonesome, as I often 
do in the boarding-house, perhaps you might like com- 
pany for a little while. I could — ” 

“ Thank you ! said Mr. Hurley quickly, when he 
hesitated. “ Come along. You will be welcome, 
though I’ll be poor company for any one just now.” 

As a matter of fact, the old man did not feel at 
all like seeing another boy in the place once occupied 
by his nephew; but he knew that grieving was hurt- 
ful to his age; that it would be better for him to 
have company of some sort; and that his interest in 
this courageous, honest boy would help him to get 
over his sorrow. 

How glad he was after their first evening together ! 
Eddie was that sort of person who is interested in 
everybody. He played with boys, he conversed pleas- 
antly with ladies, held yarn for grandmothers, and 
talked business with old men. He was not at all con- 
scious of his ability to get on with everyone: he was 
simply interested in what the others were interested 
'in, and thus became attractive. He went over and 
over Tom Benson’s career with his grieving uncle. 
Mr. Hurley had to tell him all about the beginnings of 
his life, and how he had come to America and built 
up his trade. In reviewing his career the scenes of 
youth sprang up as gay as in their prime; the merry, 
mischievous life of an Irish boy kept him and Eddie 
amused, and the two were inseparable companions for 
the summer. Mr. Hurley became an honorary member 
of the Lookaheads, and gave them a royal picnic on 
the Sand Bar, where he nearly laughed himself into 
a fit watching their antics in the water. 

When the summer began to wane, the old gentle- 
man had made up his mind perfectly about Eddie. 
In years his house had not seen such merriment, such 
joy. Tom Benson had been of a shy disposition at 
home, and had spent little time with his uncle. The 


i8o The Boy Who Looked 'Ahead 

old man had never known the charm which a true boy 
casts over the heart of age until he had watched and 
studied Eddie coming and going for nearly three 
months. 

When the letter came from the Radleys asking Eddie 
to get the house in readiness for their return, a pang 
shot through the old man at sight of the boy’s beam- 
ing face. 

'' They’ll not all be coming home at once,” Eddie 
said. Mr. and Mrs. McGinnis will arrive in Sep- 
tember. Father Fleming will be home at Christmas. 
But that won’t be long coming.” 

The bride and groom should get a reception in 
their own house,” said Mr. Hurley. Have they 
said anything about it, Eddie ? ” 

“Not a word, but I suppose Mrs. Radley will see 
to that. I wish I could give Vincent the reception 
he would like on coming home ! ” 

“ And what kind of a reception might that be, if I 
may ask ? ” 

“ His old job as secretary to Mr. Willard. He lost 
it by carelessness, and then he lost his foot, and after- 
ward he lost his health. It’s terrible to lose every- 
thing, Mr. Hurley.” 

“ It is, indeed. You came very near it, and I too. 
We understand what it is to lose all at a stroke. What 
chance is there of his getting back the Willard job? ” 

“ I’ve been thinking it over all summer, in the hope of 
having the place back when Vincent returned from the 
mountains. But I can’t think out anything except a 
straight talk with Mr. Willard himself, and telling 
Vin’s sad story.” 

“ The very thing ! ” said Mr. Hurley eagerly. “ I 
know the man well. He’s as tender-hearted as a 
woman. I’ll give you a letter of introduction, for you 
can’t reach him in any other way.” 

With high hope in his kind, honest heart, Eddie pre- 


Happy Hours 


i8i 


sented himself and his letter the following day in the 
office of the great man, and was almost directly ad- 
mitted into his august presence. His first remark quite 
confused Eddie. 

“ Mr. Hurley writes me,’’ said he in a low, easy 
voice, as if nothing in this world mattered a cent’s 
worth, “ that you are to become his partner one of 
these days, which will be an important position.” 

“ Yes, sir,” replied Eddie; I hope so, after I learn 
the whole business. Do you remember Vincent Rad- 
ley, sir, your secretary a long time ago ? ” 

‘‘ A charming boy indeed. It pained me to find 
him indifferent to his work, and to let him go. I hope 
he is well.” 

‘‘ Quite well, thank you, sir ! But he has been seri- 
ously ill, for he had his foot cut off by a train. He 
has an artificial foot now, and you would never know 
his real foot had been cut off.” 

“ They do these things very well now. Poor boy, 
what a misfortune!” 

‘‘ And really, Mr. Willard, he was not indifferent 
to his position with you ; but, like most boys, he thought 
he owned the job and couldn’t lose it, and so he got 
careless. He has had lots of misfortune; but now he’s 
coming back from the mountains in good health, and he 
must go to w'ork; and I thought if he could get his old 
place under you again, what a joy it would be to him! 
He is the best and kindest boy you ever saw, Mr. Wil- 
lard. He has changed so much no one would believe 
him to be the same. And he talks in his sleep of 
being your secretary. I’m sure he would be very satis- 
factory to you this time, sir.” 

The great man kept Eddie pleading the case of his 
friend much longer than he would permit a business 
man to talk up an important enterprise; and he kept 
fingering the letter of Mr. Hurley, and smiling at some 
of his phrases. The conclusion was that he would 


1 82 The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

consider the matter and send his decision by telephone. 
He shook hands with Eddie in parting, and took a 
long, keen look at the bright, earnest face, with its 
sensitive yet determined mouth. 

You have a good friend in Mr. Hurley,” said he. 

‘‘ Yes, sir, and he’s the kindest man in the world.” 

Well,” said Mr. Hurley, with his broadest smile, 
** how did you get on ? What ! He kept you half an 
hour talking? Vincent has the job, then; and he’ll 
find it waiting for him the night he comes home. But 
now, before that night arrives three days hence, I want 
it distinctly understood that you make no change of 
residence. You may sleep at Radley’s whenever you 
wish, but my house is to be your house forever. You 
are to be my partner in the business, and it will go 
into your hands when I give up. I told you I would 
make up to you for what you did for me; and, on 
the strength of Father Fleming’s recommendation, my 
own sense, and your past behavior, I do it now. What 
do you say?” 

Of course Eddie agreed on the spot; for he had not 
looked ahead over the road of life five years without 
learning that such a chance does not happen to every- 
one. They talked the matter over in all its details, and 
came to a good understanding. Then Eddie opened 
up the Radley home on a fair afternoon in September, 
and stood at the door to welcome mother and son, who 
came home as healthy and happy as if misfortune had 
never touched them. Just one letter lay on the table for 
Vincent. He opened it immediately, at the request 
of Eddie, who knew very well what it contained. It 
was a formal reply to a formal application, and stated 
that Mr. Vincent Radley was again accepted as secre- 
tary to Mr. Willard. Then mother and son fell on 
Eddie’s neck together, and the sorrow of past days 
vanished in the sunshine of that happy hour. 


The Last Scenes 


183 


CHAPTER XXXII 

THE LAST SCENES 

EARS have passed since all these events took 



place. But Eddie is living yet in Fallville; 


JL. and the big rock is still used as a swimming- 
place by the boys ; and the Sand Bar is still owned by 
Mr. McGinnis ; and the Mohawk, with its fairy yachts 
and pleasure boats, glides on as of old. 

Eddie continued to look ahead when he grew up, 
just as he had looked ahead when he was a boy. He 
now owns one hundred grocery stores in different parts 
of the country; he is a director in three banks. When 
he walks about, everyone points at him as the greatest 
citizen of Fallville ; and the great detective still thinks 
him the most wonderful boy on earth. One could 
go on talking about him all day and far into the night ; 
but of what use would it be, since we now know 
him to be the kindest, noblest, most loving fellow in 
the land, — one who could no more desert a friend, or 
forget a sufferer, or neglect his business and his duty, 
than he could remember his own pleasure in anything ? 
But as we all like to know how' people went on in 
life after we have moved away from their neighbor- 
hood, I will give a few scenes in which Eddie figured 
years afterward, when he had become a great man. 

Here is a beautiful brick building, just across from 
Father Fleming’s church. It is three stories high, and 
its big entrance on this particular evening is ablaze 
with light. People are crowding in by the main en- 
trance ; the windows are illuminated, and the sound of 
music is heard. Inside a merry crowd is going up and 
down the stairs, through the rooms, examining every- 
thing — the library, the gymnasium, the swimming- 
pool, the recreation halls, — and pronouncing all per- 


184 The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

feet. Young men with badges on their coats, hand- 
some fellows in their best attire, are acting as ushers. 
They are the members of the Lookahead Club, and 
this is the new building which their first president has 
built for them with his own money. 

After a while the crowd assembles in the grand hall, 
which seats six hundred people. The music plays, 
the people chat, and then the curtain goes up on the 
stage, and discovers a group of men whom everybody 
cheers. Would you know the man with the kind dark 
eyes, whose dark hair and beard half conceal him from 
you? Of course you would, because once the kind- 
ness of that face is seen it is never forgotten. That 
is Eddie Travers, now grown up, but just the same 
as he was fifteen years ago. The big fellow with 
golden hair and red beard, handsome as he can be, 
is Vincent Radley, as good and kind and patient as 
after he met with calamity. And the elegant gentle- 
man with the rose in his coat, and the diamond pin 
in his olive-green tie, and his white gloves and “ spats,” 
— why, that’s Harold of course, the New York banker. 

The president of the Lookahead Club, a young man 
who is very nervous be.cause he has to make a speech, 
leads them all to their seats, where they wait until 
the last member of the group comes on, — Father Flem- 
ing himself. They have all changed, but he looks 
precisely the same as twenty years before. His hair 
is thin, there are wrinkles around his eyes, and one can 
guess that he is getting old ; but he dresses as well, he 
walks as lightly, and he speaks and laughs as gaily as 
ever he did. What cheers when he enters, what ap- 
plause when he speaks ! He goes over the story of 
old times, full of praise for the boys of long ago; 
and he winds up with compliments to Harold and Vin- 
cent and Edward, saying of the last : 

‘‘ There never was a boy who looked so far ahead 
as Eddie, never a boy who won a fortune so quickly. 


The Last Scenes 185 

and certainly there never was a boy so ready to spend 
his fortune for the good of others/’ 

Then Eddie made a beautiful speech (he was so used 
to it, you know, at banquets and other gatherings of 
great men), and his finest compliment was for Father 
Fleming : 

“ He taught me and encouraged me to look along 
the road of life, through the door of death, and across 
the beautiful road of heaven; never to linger or idle 
by the wayside, and never to lose sight of the heavenly 
home. In giving him this building, I am only paying 
the first instalment of the debt under which he has 
placed me.” 

The young president of the Club made a speech, ac- 
cepting the building in behalf of the members, and 
congratulating the Lookaheads on their great associate. 
Then Vincent Radley spoke in his easy way, smooth- 
ing his beard with his hand. And last of all Harold 
addressed the assembly, after he had touched up his 
rose, fixed his tie, smoothed his gloves, and seen that 
his hair was properly placed. Some one called for 
Mr. McGinnis, but he always declined to speak in pub- 
lic. 

That is the first scene — one of joy and success, — 
and the other is much the same. This time it is in the 
church, where a great crowd has assembled. The sun 
shines against the illuminated windows, the organ re- 
sounds, the sanctuary is filled with priests and bishops, 
and the centre of it all is Father Fleming. He is now 
a really old man, — fifty years a priest, and this is his 
Golden Jubilee. But he does not look much older than 
before. His step is light, his voice is sweet and strong, 
and he will live ten years yet. He glances around 
with joy and pride at the sanctuary, which is his 
work. Glorious pictures of Our Lord in His Resur- 
rection look down upon you from the concave wall. 
The bishop, from the high pulpit, speaks of Father 


i86 The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

Fleming and his work. He is an old man with silver 
hair and wonderful voice, whose words penetrate like 
fire ; and what high praise he pours upon the priest for 
his years of service to God and to the people! 

When everything is over, two gentlemen leave the 
first pew and enter the sanctuary to stand before the 
pastor. You know Eddie at once, but you do not 
know the other until you look more closely. He is 
only fifteen, though nearly as tall as his father. And 
when he turns his face on you, the tears fill your 
eyes; for here is Eddie Travers come back again from 
the land of youth, — the same boy with the pale face 
and the sad eyes and the sweet, sensitive mouth. How 
wonderful are the ways of God, who thus renews in 
each generation the beloved sights of the dead past! 
The father reads an address and the son presents a lit- 
tle packet. It is the second great testimony of a 
boy’s love and gratitude. Father Fleming pouts with 
his underlip, as he always does when he is affected; 
and he accepts the packet and the address in a few 
words. He knows that the new school just built will 
be henceforth known as the Travers Memorial, Eddie’s 
gift to that beloved father and mother who left him 
long, long ago on the road of life, but whose prayers 
found him such a mother as Mrs. Radley and such a 
father as this faithful old priest. And the second 
scene passes away. 

The third scene is entirely different, although the 
details are pretty much the same. Here is Cataract 
Street again; and there are the Falls in full view at 
the north end, tumbling and roaring from the violence 
of the floods of spring. The Radley home, however, 
has vanished from the place. In its stead rises an im- 
posing building, with fine grounds, a grand entrance, a 
bronze bust over the door, and a crowd of people mov- 
ing about after the ceremony. There have been 
speeches and a luncheon; and the centre of the scene 


The Last Scenes 


187 

has been that same boy who always looked ahead into 
the future, planning for great days. Twenty years 
ago he dreamed of this very scene on Cataract Street, 
just as he dreamed of the new club and the Travers 
Memorial School. To-day the Fleming Memorial 
Hospital is a fact; he has presented it to its trustees, 
endowed with a good income, and the bronze bust of 
his friend and benefactor stands over the door. 

When the ceremony is concluded the Travers party 
drive away along the main road to the south end of the 
city. What a host of them, — the families of Sulli- 
van, Radley, Travers, and McGinnis, parents and 
children ! On reaching the churchyard, they walk like 
pilgrims to the highest spot and kneel down, while the 
head of the family recites the prayers for the departed. 
Then they all gather about the monument, which they 
have seen before, but can not see too often. It is a 
simple stone carrying a beautiful bronze tablet, on 
which, in relief, is a good portrait of Father Fleming 
leading a boy by the hand from a swampy place, while 
he points to a safe road above. And the legend on 
the stone reads : 


TO THE MEMORY OF 

THE REVEREND THOMAS SYLVESTER FLEMING 
FROM EDWARD 

A little girl traces with her finger the figure of the 
boy. 

Is that really you, papa? ” 

“ Yes, dear, — when I was little and poor.’’ 

And this is really and truly Father Fleming, 
papa? ” 

Really and truly, pet, as we remember him, — 
even to the pout of the underlip,” Eddie says to the 
others gazing with sadness on the figure in bronze. 

A canal bounds the place on the west, a railroad on 


i88 The Boy Who Looked Ahead 

the east, and the four men have the same thought as 
they walk to their carriages. It was Vincent’s tragedy 
that brought them all together in such friendship, and 
bound them forever to the holy soul whose mortal part 
lay there in the mould. 


THE END 


PRINTED BY BLASE BENZIGER & CO., INC., NEW YORK 







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